


without you, my world would B♭

by baileyisbest



Series: Sonority [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Classical Music, Alternate Universe - College/University, Injury Recovery, Light Angst, M/M, What's going on, featuring do kyungsoo as Voice Of Reason™, starring byun baekhyun as An Emotional Wreck™
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-06 05:26:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14049891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baileyisbest/pseuds/baileyisbest
Summary: "After all, losing something you already have is more painful than never having it in the first place."





	1. First Movement

The spring of his junior year, Baekhyun realizes that perhaps the only thing more difficult than climbing to the top is trying to climb back to the top.

His prodigal return to school isn’t so much of an exciting arrival as it is a somber reunion. It’s hard to go to class when it only reminds him that for an entire semester, everyone else had the chance to practice, to improve, to _become better than him_. Baekhyun likes being ahead, will never settle for average, and above all, hates falling behind. But now, set back a couple months, he feels an overbearing weight on his conscious.

Upperclassmen who once considered him a threat now barely acknowledge him. The second years’ gazes feel too complacent and the freshman don’t even know who he is. Of course, people said things too, but being ignored felt much worse compared to mindless gossip.

Baekhyun is not afraid of treachery, or even misery. He has never shied away from doing what needs to be done. What Baekhyun is afraid of is mediocrity. He is afraid of being unknown.

Music is not about the glamour or even the long, lonely nights of practice. It’s about the performance. Music is meant to be heard, and Baekhyun desperately wants to be heard.

Being away for so long has only made him more ambitious. More restless. He wants a lot of things and the only thing stopping him is himself.

This is going to be Baekhyun’s year. He is going to be the comeback kid of this entire campus.

He has a plan.

 

\--

 

Finding an apartment with a single semester lease had been difficult but not undoable. Baekhyun lives on the third floor of a very small, very tall complex that was clearly built with low-income students in mind.

The barren hallways, walled with exposed concrete, tend to betray the fact that the inner apartments are newly furnished and well-conditioned. Baekhyun hasn’t spotted any roaches yet, but the heating has broken down once already. It’s only January.

Heechul, who desperately needs a haircut and always seems to be wearing a bathrobe, bangs on his door every first Saturday, demanding Baekhyun to pay rent. In cash. It’s definitely a vibe.

The sky is still dark when Baekhyun wakes up on the first day of class. Experience has taught him that this is the only way he can snatch up his favorite practice room before the rest of the early crowd rolls in.

Racing against the clock, he scrambles around for his annotated copy of Reveille etudes before bolting out, violin case in tow. He’s in such a hurry that he nearly forgets to lock the door on his way out.

Baekhyun catches the elevator at the very last second. Thankfully, someone holds it open for him -- it’s his neighbor, a tall guy with an unfairly attractive face who lives right across the hall. Since he moved in a week ago, Baekhyun has seen around maybe once or twice.

“Thanks,” he says, catching his breath.

“No problem.” His neighbor turns to look at Baekhyun, inquisitive. “Did you just move in? I didn’t really see you around last year.”

 _He’s friendly_ , Baekhyun thinks. _Not afraid of talking to strangers._

“Yeah, I just moved in. Last week, actually.”

“Oh, okay. I see.” They reach ground floor and the doors open.

“Well, I’ll see you around.” The smile he gives Baekhyun as he leaves straddles the perfect territory between hot and cute. “Have a nice day!”

Baekhyun feels charmed.

It never really occurred to him to meet his neighbors. He got over the whole ‘making friends’ part of college a long time ago, and it’s been awhile since he ever felt the urge to strike up random conversation. Kyungsoo often attributes this as the reason why Baekhyun only has like, three friends, but the root of it all is that Baekhyun just doesn’t have the time.

But that doesn’t mean that he is completely above checking someone out. Hig neighbor’s got a nice face, broad shoulders, and some very long legs. Baekhyun’s always wanted a tall boyfriend, even if he never did have the time for one.

 

-

 

“And then, he told me to have a _nice day_. A nice day!”

“Baekhyun, when I said _how are you_ , I didn’t mean _please give me a detailed play-by-play of how your morning went_ ,” Kyungsoo says, eyes still glued to his book.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I just thought that after not seeing me for six months, my _best friend_ would care a little more about how my morning went--”

“Stop.” Kyungsoo finally looks up and fixes Baekhyun with a sharp gaze. “You clearly need to get laid. I don’t want to hear about you thirsting over your neighbor, no matter how hot he is.”

They’re sitting at their regular table, the corner seat of the music hall cafe. In another hour or so, Jongin will appear and unload the latest haul of hot gossip about the dance department and the political science department and the arts department and every other department except the music college. It’s good to know that despite the passing time, some things will never change.

“Um, first of all, _rude_ ,” Baekhyun splutters. “And second, I don’t have time for that. Getting laid isn’t in my _plan_.”

“Your plan,” Kyungsoo deadpans.

“Yes, my plan. My comeback plan. I told you about this!”

“Oh, you weren’t kidding.”

“Of course not!”

“You can’t be serious. This is exactly the kind of behavior that put you out of school in the first place.”

“It’s different this time,” Baekhyun insists. “I’m going to do things right.”

“Here we go,” Kyungsoo mutters. “You say that every single time--”

“Just trust me! I’m going to pass sonata auditions, and then we’re going to win the chamber competition in April.”

Kyungsoo freezes. “Wait, what do you mean _we’re_ going to win the chamber competition?”

“This brings me to my next point.” Baekhyun leans forward and takes Kyungsoo’s hand in his own. “Will you play with me in this year’s chamber competition?”

“You are,” Kyungsoo grits out, “absolutely ridiculous.” He rips his hand out from Baekhyun’s grip. “I cannot believe you.”

“Is that a yes?”

“No.”

“But it’s not a no?”

Kyungsoo pauses for a moment. “No,” he sighs. “I’ll think about it.”

“I knew you’d come around,” Baekhyun beams.

“You better be sure about this.”

“I am!”

Baekhyun’s plan goes like this: enter the sonata competition, win the sonata competition, enter the chamber competition, win the chamber competition, get a 4.0.

Kyungsoo had pointed out that his plan is simple in the same way _getting a job_ or _finishing your degree_ is simple -- it’s not at all. But Baekhyun chooses not to think of it that way. He has a few end goals and that was all he was going to think about for this entire semester.

He already has a group in mind for his chamber entry. A piano quartet -- Kyungsoo was debatably the best violist of their year (and would no doubt say yes) and where Kyungsoo went, Jongin followed. The cellist was a year younger but Baekhyun wasn’t looking for skill. He was looking for teamwork, arguably a more important quality when it came to chamber. And for piano -- Yixing.

The pieces were slowly becoming apparent. Baekhyun just had to put them together.

 

-

 

On Friday, Baekhyun schedules a visit with Junmyeon, his academic advisor. The last time Baekhyun sat in this office, it had been in tears.

Things hadn’t felt too bad at first, but the tension in his left hand eventually become so apparent that his doctor felt the need to contact the dean and request academic leave. Junmyeon, who has the gentle heart of a kindergarten teacher, was tasked with breaking the news to Baekhyun and he did it in this office while Baekhyun sat on this very couch.

The pain had followed Baekhyun everywhere -- when he woke up in the morning and felt the soreness in his nerves, when he went to class and could barely hold the violin, and even at night, when he went to bed and thought about how maybe this is the end. This is how his career would end before it even started.

But hardships only matter if you get back up again. Baekhyun withdrew for the semester, packed his bags, and moved home before autumn even blew over. He wasn’t stupid -- staying on campus, surrounded by all his peers, would have only enticed him to practice through the pain. The temptation was far too great.

He had remained with his parents and sustained minimal progress through online courses. It was nice, being at home, but even then, it was difficult to resist the itch in his fingers. There was the baby grand piano sitting in the living room, his violin, locked in its case, untuned for months, and his mother’s cellos, easy for the taking. Musicians were meant to play music and with his wrist out of commission, Baekhyun had not even been able to fulfill that basic requirement. It had sucked.

The doctor only let him start practicing two months ago, limiting to half an hour a day, and Baekhyun would have been stupid to not follow those instructions closely. He fucked up his wrist once and that was enough to scare him for a lifetime. He wasn’t going to waste months of rest and rehab. He wasn’t going to risk it again.

“Would you like some tea?” Junmyeon offers and Baekhyun snickers.

“I see you’re still an old man.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“I’m only twenty-seven.” Junmyeon responds with the insistence of someone who’s used to such accusations.

“Yeah, you’re only twenty-seven, working in top administration at one of the best schools in the country, you drink tea with your lunch, and--” Baekhyun leans forward to get a better look, “--is that a _sweater vest_ you’re wearing?”

“It is. Do you like it? It’s new.”

Baekhyun rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “I don’t know why I ever thought things would change while I was gone. You haven’t even gotten rid of this ugly couch.” He pats the cushions.

“My students love that couch,” Junmyeon counters. “It’s comfortable and it’s got sentimental value. It belongs in this office.”

“It belongs in a yard sale.”

“Well, I think it looks just fine.” Junmyeon takes a sip of his tea and regards Baekhyun in a way that makes him feel both praised and scrutinized at the same time. “I’m really glad to have you back.”

“You’re only saying that,” he laughs.

“I’m not. It’s been really quiet here lately without you.”

“I can believe that.” Now it’s Junmyeon’s turn to laugh.

“The department just hasn’t felt the same without you. You have no idea how lost the undergraduate philharmonic is without their first chair.”

Baekhyun scrunches his nose. “I’m sure Taeyong is doing just fine. He’s always been destined for the spotlight.”

“As are _you_. Do you not plan on returning to the orchestra?”

“Actually, I thought I might do things differently this time.”

In the music college, Baekhyun often finds himself straddling the careful line between self-improvement and self-importance. It’s always a war between playing for himself and playing for the audience. In the end, Baekhyun has always been a people-pleaser. Maybe he wants to change that this year.

“I see,” Junmyeon says. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well,” Baekhyun starts, choosing his words carefully. “I kind of had a plan for this semester.”

Junmyeon leans back in his chair, ready to listen.

“Let’s hear it.”

 

-

 

In addition to himself and Kyungsoo, Junmyeon has always been one of Baekhyun’s greatest critics. He can take one look and, in the most frustratingly reasonable manner, tell Baekhyun exactly what he’s doing wrong. Today, however, he gives Baekhyun his full approval.

_“I think this is perfect for getting you back on your feet.”_

_“You like it?”_

_“I do. I can tell that you’ve matured a lot, Baekhyun.”_

_“Really?”_

_“It was painful to see you leave, but you did a lot of growing up.”_

_“That’s...good to hear.”_

_“Let’s go ahead and put in that chamber entry. I think working in a smaller group can do you some good.”_

To say the least, Baekhyun was feeling pretty good about all of this.

 

-

 

The rest of the week goes well -- almost too well.

It’s another slow morning at the cafe. Kyungsoo is complaining about the transcription homework and then Baekhyun offhandedly brings up the chamber competition arrangement when Jongin quietly speaks up, pointing out that Baekhyun might have to change his plans a bit because--

“Yixing _switched majors_?”

“I thought you knew!” Jongin throws his hands up in defense.

“He switched to political science? Are you kidding me?”

“If I knew you had Yixing in mind, I would’ve told you sooner.”

“This is awful,” Baekhyun continues. “I’m sure Yixing is much better at playing the piano than...whatever it is that _political science_ majors do.”

“Baekhyun, be nice. This is why you have no friends,” Kyungsoo says. He scowls at his homework, releasing another swath of eraser shavings onto the floor.

“Kyungsoo is right,” Jongin agrees. “You have no friends.”

“I don’t want friends. I don’t _need_ friends.” Baekhyun feels like it’s important to make this clear.

“Whatever you say.”

“Do you think Yixing can still play for us though?” Baekhyun wants to be hopeful.

“I don’t think so. He’s overloading on course credits to catch up,” Jongin says. “Definitely won’t have enough time.”

“Can we enter as a trio?” Kyungsoo asks.

“Can’t. Junmyeon also sent in our entry.”

“How can we enter as a piano quartet if we don’t have a pianist?” Jongin ponders. “Baekhyun, this is all your fault.”

“My fault!?”

“If you didn’t ask me to do this competition, I would’ve taken workshop again this semester. And it looks bad if we withdraw!”

“Everyone, shut up.” Kyungsoo throws his hand down on the table. “This is what we’re going to do.”

Kyungsoo isn’t a man of many words, which means all jokes aside, Baekhyun takes him very seriously. His best friend can say that two plus two is five and Baekhyun would be thoroughly convinced. He listens closely.

“Jongin and I will work on selection. Baekhyun, you’re going to find a new pianist.”

“I am?”

“You are.”

“If I don’t?”

“Jongin is right. We’re only in this mess because we agreed to help you out. This is your only option if you want to make your stupid plan work. ”

Kyungsoo looks him square in the eye.

“So you’d better make it work.”  

 

-

 

In the end, Yixing is still Baekhyun’s friend (even if he’s a political science major now). In another life, Baekhyun might have been petty enough to ignore his text messages. But as Kyungsoo always points out, he doesn’t have a lot of friends and he would very much like to keep the ones he has.

“I’m glad you came out,” Yixing says, leading them past the bouncer and into the club. The air is hot with body heat and despite the cold weather outside, it’s awfully packed for a Wednesday night.

“I guess it’s been awhile.” Baekhyun glances around as they approach the bar.

“I’m sorry I can’t play for your quartet.”

“You’ll have to give me some time to get over that.” Baekhyun sounds bitter, but there’s no bite behind his voice.

Yixing just laughs. “You haven’t changed at all. Let me buy you a round.”

“Um,” Baekhyun says. “I don’t know about that.”

The thing about drinks is that Baekhyun can’t have just one. Once he gets his first one in, it’s only a matter of time before he’ll become drunkenly happy and start impulsively buying expensive cocktails for everyone. Then he’ll start pounding shots and suddenly it’s 3AM and he’s puking in the Uber. And yet, he crosses that threshold everytime.

“Just one.” Yixing smiles mischievously like he knows exactly what’s going through Baekhyun’s head.

“I have class tomorrow,” Baekhyun argues weakly.

“I haven’t seen you in almost six months.”

“This is true.”

Yixing pushes a cranberry vodka into his hands.

“You’ll thank me later.”

He does thank Yixing later, when he finds himself getting necked in the men’s bathroom by a brunette with insanely nice arms. Baekhyun had actually been going for a tall blonde but that tall blonde had a friend and Baekhyun had ended up dancing with him instead.

There had been a little bit of grinding and some making out and the next thing Baekhyun knows, he’s getting shoved into the bathroom tile, cold against his back in a stark contrast to the heat of the dance floor. He trails his hands down well-muscled biceps and moans loud as a tongue plays around with the shell of his ear.

Strong hands come around his waist and Baekhyun sighs happily. He reaches up to dangle his wrists on broad shoulders. There’s a pair of lips moving against his again.

He deals another clumsy kiss before pulling back. It had been kind of dark out there but under the halogen lights, Baekhyun gets his first good look at the guy’s face.

In a moment of staggering clarity, he recognizes who he’s been making out with this entire time. It’s the guy who lives down the hall. His hot neighbor.

“Oh my god,” Baekhyun says, mildly shocked.

“What’s wrong?” the guy asks. His eyes widen in confusion and despite the situation, Baekhyun can’t help but think it makes him look really cute. Like a lost puppy.

“I think I know you,” he squeaks. They’re still half-attached at the hips and Baekhyun suddenly feels conscious about everywhere they’re touching.

“I sure hope so. We live in the same building.”

”I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Chanyeol.”

“I’m Baekhyun.”

“Cool, what year are you?”

Baekhyun represses a snort. “Are you really trying to do introductions _here_?” He gestures to the toilet.

“We can do introductions at my place.” Chanyeol shoots him a questioning smile. His thumbs trace lazy circles into Baekhyun’s hips and it makes him feel even drunker. “Don’t worry, it’s really close to yours.”

Baekhyun rolls his eyes. “You’re lucky you’re hot.”

“You think I’m hot?”

“Shut up,” Baekhyun snaps. “I’m trying to think.”

Chanyeol raises an eyebrow. “You can say yes or no.”

He’s right. It’s a simple question and Baekhyun should say no. He shouldn’t even be here right now. Going home with cute boys is definitely not in the plan.

But Chanyeol is ridiculously attractive, Baekhyun has always been weak for a good height difference, and he lives right across the fucking hall. The reasons start to add up.

Just one night, Baekhyun thinks. One night wouldn’t hurt.

“Fine,” he says. “Let’s get out of here.

Chanyeol responds with a smile. It’s a little flirty, almost coy. He eagerly grabs Baekhyun’s hand to lead them to the exit.

Yixing, who’s still busy on the dance floor, spots the pair on their way out and makes a lewd gesture with his fingers. Baekhyun flips him the bird.

 

-

 

Baekhyun wakes up in the morning to a familiar alarm and an unfamiliar bed. Through all of yesterday, his phone managed to hang on the last dregs of its battery and his regular alarm has gone off.

He’s halfway through putting on his shirt, fishing around for last night’s jeans, when Chanyeol wakes up.

“Are you leaving?” he mumbles, rising slowly from the sheets and blinking away sleep. Baekhyun didn’t think it was possible, but Chanyeol looks even cuter in the morning.

He finishes putting on his pants and sits down on the bed to run a hand through Chanyeol’s adorable bed hair. He nuzzles into it and Baekhyun marvels. He really is just a big puppy.

“I’d love to stay for pillow talk, but I have class in an hour.”

“If you didn’t have class, you’d stay for breakfast?” Chanyeol makes a hopeful face that makes it difficult to deny.

“I guess, yeah.”

“Yeah?” Chanyeol sits up, aiming for a kiss. The comforter falls around his waist, showing an expanse of skin that suddenly reminds Baekhyun of all the other things they did last night.

He blocks the kiss with a pointer finger to Chanyeol’s mouth. “I have morning breath.”

“I don’t mind.”

So Baekhyun lets himself be kissed, lazy in the early morning with faint sunlight filtering through the blinds, alighting Chanyeol’s hair to be more chestnut than brown. Baekhyun’s alarm goes off again.

“I have to get ready soon,” he says, pulling back. “I should probably--”  
  
“What’s your number?” Chanyeol blurts. “Let’s not be strangers.”

“What do you mean?”

“It means, let me take you out.”

It’s bold. But Baekhyun has no problem with bold. He likes that Chanyeol likes him. Maybe Baekhyun likes him too.

“Sure,” he replies. “Give me your phone.”

 

-

 

Baekhyun has taken all week to comb through his contacts in the piano division. He looks through his options, up and down, front and back, inside and out. Nothing seemed to work. He had been so set on Yixing from the beginning that no one else seemed to fit into his vision.

The chamber competition culminated at the end of April and selections were due at the end of February, so Baekhyun needed to find someone soon if they wanted to get on a practice schedule.

He scrubs his hands over his face and sighs loudly. This is how Kyungsoo finds him on Saturday: face down on the cafe table, groaning in frustration. Jongin trails in him behind him and they both take a seat to witness The End of Byun Baekhyun.

“I see you haven’t made any progress.” Kyungsoo sounds unsurprised.

“I don’t know what to do,” Baekhyun admits.

“Did you try the orchestra?”

“No,” Jongin interrupts. “Two of them are on leave and I think Jessica Jung actually left.”

Baekhyun bites back a retort. Zitao was indeed on leave. He’s studying abroad and Luhan-- well. Luhan is on tour in Europe. It’s funny to think that it should’ve been Baekhyun’s spot if his wrist had stayed in playable condition.

“What happened to Jessica?” Kyungsoo asks.

Jongin reaches over to steal a bite from Baekhyun’s croissant. “Apparently, she wanted to pursue other things,” he says through a mouthful of crumbs.

“Hey, get your own food,” Baekhyun snaps, smacking Jongin’s hand.

“You didn’t look like you wanted it.”

“I’m stressed! How can I eat while I’m in this state!”

Jongin shrugs. “That sounds like a strong you-problem. Anyways, I think Soojung wants to leave too.”

Kyungsoo sees a chance and takes it. “Well, it’s a good thing that she broke up with you before that happened.” There’s an ironic relish in his voice.

“I keep telling guys -- it was mutual! Why does everyone think she dumped me?”

“Because it’s true,” Kyungsoo says and Baekhyun shoots him a knowing look. They have a running bet to see how long it takes Jongin to get over her -- like _really_ get over her.

“Don’t we have more important things to talk about? Like, uh, finding a pianist?” Jongin says, quick to divert to attention away from himself.

“Ugh, don’t remind me.”  Baekhyun slumps down in his chair. This has got to be the worst timing ever.

“What about Taemin?” Jongin suggests. “He’s a violin major but he actually started in piano. Like y--”

“No, absolutely not.”

“Baekhyun, you’re just embarrassed that you unseated him from first chair when you were just a freshman. Suck it up,” Kyungsoo says.

“Yeah, he told me there’s no hard feelings,” Jongin agrees.

“No, please. Not Taemin.”

“Okay, what about the jazz kids?”

Baekhyun clutches a hand to his heart. “My god, Kyungsoo, we’re not that desperate!”

“Aren’t we? I’m finalizing our selection in the next two weeks.”

“Wow, time sure does fly,” Jongin says. “I can’t believe it’s already February.”

“Time is moving too fast,” Baekhyun groans. His phone buzzes in his pocket. “Hold that thought.”

 

_[14:42] hey where are you_

_[14:42] I can’t find you_

 

“Shit,” he says under his breath. He reaches for his bag and starts packing up his things.

“What?” Kyungsoo says.

“I was supposed to meet Chanyeol. We’re getting coffee.”

“Tell him to come here. We’re in a cafe already.”

“And risk having him meet you guys? I’d rather die.” The last thing he needs is for Chanyeol, an actual human puppy, to befriend Kyungsoo and Jongin, in case whatever is going on between them turns sour. Baekhyun can be optimistic but he’s also reasonable.

“Who’s Chanyeol? Why do you guys never tell me things?” Jongin has completely consumed his croissant by now, leaving nothing but a pile of buttery flakes.

“He’s nobody you should worry about,” Baekhyun says sharply. “And you owe me another croissant.”

As usual, Kyungsoo doesn’t miss a beat. “What happened to not being a part of your _plan_ ?” He cocks his eyebrow at an angle that shouldn’t be possible and puts air quotes around _plan_.

“My plan will be fine!” Baekhyun says as he leaves. “Give me two weeks. I’ll find someone!”

He doesn’t stick around long enough to hear what Kyungsoo says. It’s probably not something very nice.

 

-

 

Baekhyun wakes up the next Sunday in Chanyeol’s bed. Again. He doesn’t mean for this to happen so frequently but to his defense, they live right down the hall from each other and hanging out in Chanyeol’s apartment is easy when his own is just ten seconds away. Being with Chanyeol in general is easy.

Chanyeol is a business major and whatever it was that business majors did gave Chanyeol a schedule that seemed equally as demanding as Baekhyun’s. He talked a lot about financial analysis and spreadsheets and Baekhyun usually just nods and listens because he doesn’t have a whole lot of knowledge on that end. He didn’t even know they had a business school.

What he does know is that they are both equally as likely to be up early in the morning as they are to stay up late at night. And that’s another reason as to why it seemed to work out so well in their friendship. Or affair. Arrangement? Whatever it was.

“Hey, are you listening?” Chanyeol waves a hand in front of Baekhyun’s face. They’re in Chanyeol’s kitchen, eating a makeshift lunch with Baekhyun sitting on the island table while Chanyeol stands.

“What?” He had been spacing out, barely touching his food.

“I said, do you have plans today?” Chanyeol repeats. Baekhyun thinks for a second.

He has sonata practice at four and then he wants to swing by Junmyeon’s office to talk about the chamber arrangement. Which was a quartet. Violin, viola, cello, piano. He needed to find a pianist. He had one week left.

“Hello?” Chanyeol sounds concerned.

“Sorry, sorry. Um, I have something in the afternoon. Did you want to grab dinner?” Chanyeol just shakes his head.

“What’s wrong with you today?” he asks, ruffling an affectionate hand through Baekhyun’s hair. “You’re not really here.”

“Sorry,” Baekhyun apologizes again. “I’m just stressed out, there’s a lot going on and-”

Chanyeol ditches his food and comes to stand between Baekhyun’s legs, hands at his hips. “Do you need a distraction?”

“Ugh, you just want me for my body.”

“It’s a really nice body.”

“Do you ever shut _up_.”

At Chanyeol’s insistence, Baekhyun comes forward to slide off the table. He lurches in the process and reaches out blindly to regain balance, conveniently knocking over stacks of papers that Chanyeol had no doubt been hoarding on this table. They tumble in a flurry, landing everywhere.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry--”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Chanyeol bends over to pick them up. Baekhyun jumps down to help him.

There’s papers all over the place and Baekhyun has no idea how Chanyeol plans to organize them. He sees documents and bills, unopened envelopes, grocery store ads and magazine offers, homework papers and-

“Is this _sheet music_ ?” He brandishes the first page of what looks like a Mozart minuet. There’s two staffs on the page, clearly meant for the piano, and pen markings all over, annotating measure numbers and finger combinations. There’s a _Dolce_ that’s circled three times in green marker.

“Oh, nice. I’ve been looking for this everywhere.” Chanyeol plucks the page from his hands.

“Chanyeol,” Baekhyun says, incredulous. “Do you play?”

“Yeah, I played classical until I was eighteen.”

“When did you start?”

“I think when I was four? Five?”

“That’s a really long time.”

Chanyeol just shrugs. “I mean, I guess. If I didn’t do business then I might’ve done performance. Maybe we would’ve been classmates,” he winks.

“You’re a _pianist._ How did I not know this about you?”

“Well, we’re usually not talking when we’re together…” Chanyeol wiggles his eyebrows.

Baekhyun rolls his eyes. “You’re ridiculous. I play a little too. How come you’ve never mentioned it?”

He liked Chanyeol already -- but this. This made him a hundred times more attractive.

“It’s not really something I bring up a lot, okay. _Hey, my name is Chanyeol and I played the piano for thirteen years_. Why is this such a big deal?”

“Chanyeol, I’m a _music_ major. This stuff is my entire life, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me--”

And suddenly, in the middle of Chanyeol’s kitchen, Baekhyun is struck with the most amazing idea.

“Baekhyun? Hello? Are you spacing out on me again?”

Baekhyun just smiles.

“Hey, Chanyeol,” he says after a beat. “Have you ever played in an ensemble before?

 

 


	2. Second Movement

The art of tuning requires a delicate hand and articulate ear. Kyungsoo sits completely still in the practice room, his left hand carefully twisting the peg while he bows out A and E. The chord is slowly shifting to a perfect fifth, just a little more--

“KYUNGSOO.”

“Holy _fuck-_ -”

Kyungsoo enters temporary panic mode and turns several revolutions too hard. His E string snaps and almost whips him in the face.

“Baekhyun,” he growls, turning slowly to face his sheepish friend. “How many times have I told you. To not. Sneak up. On me.”

“I’m sorry?”

“What do you want.” Kyungsoo doesn’t bother to phrase it like a question. He can feel the beginnings of a stress headache.

“Well, I have some exciting news!” Baekhyun lights up like a fucking Christmas tree.

“What is it.”

“Okay,” he begins. “I think I found us a pianist.”

“Who?”

“So before I tell you who it is, you have to promise me not to--”

“I’m not promising you anything.”

“Soo, I’m being serious.”

“So am I. Just tell me.”

“It’s Chanyeol.”

“ _What?_ ” Kyungsoo looks incredulous. “Your boy toy, who you met a _week and a half_ ago--”

“Wait, just hear me out. I know this sounds crazy, but I found out that he’s been playing since he was like _five-_ -”

“Pretty sure all of us started when we were five.”

“But then I checked his competition record and it’s like, _legit_.”

“How come I’ve never heard of him?”

“He quit before he graduated high school. And get this, Kyungsoo, GET THIS--”

“What?”

Baekhyun reaches into his bag and pulls out a wrinkled sheet of paper, handing it to Kyungsoo. It looks like an official competition document, detailing a judges panel, repertoire criteria, and a list of names at the bottom.

“Baekhyun, what is this?”

“So, remember how Luhan is like _almost_ perfect because he placed first at every senior competition EXCEPT--”

“The Kaufman International,” Kyungsoo finishes. “I know. He never shuts up about how shameful it is that he got bumped down to third because Jessica took second.”

“I went and looked up the rankings for the entire circuit that year and Kyungsoo, _read the bottom_.”

Kyungsoo looks down and reads off the paper:

 _“_ _The jury has reached a decision and is proud present the senior division results of this year’s International Youth Piano Competition. Congratulations to Jung Sooyeon and Lu Han for earning second and third place, respectively. We are honored to award the First Prize winnings, as well as an opportunity to perform at the Arts Showcase, to_ \-- “

Kyungsoo stops reading. He looks at Baekhyun, eyes wide.

“No fucking way.” Kyungsoo looks down at the paper again. “ _Park Chanyeol?_ ”

“Right?” Baekhyun crosses his arms triumphantly. “How lucky is it that this random guy I hooked up with happens to be both my neighbor _and_ a secret musical genius?”

“This is...strangely lucky.”

“Could you look at least a little more excited about this?”

“It’s almost too good to be true.” Kyungsoo looks like he still needs convincing.

“It is, isn’t it? That’s why I’ve already asked Chanyeol to sign on with our chamber entry.”

“You _what?”_

Baekhyun puts his hands up. “Kyungsoo! I knew that you were going to say yes eventually. And if you say yes, then Jongin will say yes for sure. Don’t be mad!”

Kyungsoo crumples the paper in his hand. “Fine, whatever. But if you ever do something without consulting the team again--”

“I won’t, I swear.” It’s a flimsy promise, but Kyungsoo takes it.

“Alright,” he says, tossing the paper ball to Baekhyun. “Go get me a new E string.”

It’s as close to a yes as Baekhyun is ever going to get from his best friend. He leaves for the storage room immediately in case he ends up incurring more of Kyungsoo’s wrath.

He’s in the middle of looking through the cabinet drawers where they keep the spares when Minseok, the equipment manager, walks in.

“You broke another one?” he remarks.

“No, this is for Kyungsoo.”

“Yeah,” Minseok says, narrowing his eyes. “Sure.”

 

-

 

“Is that him?”

“No, it’s not,” Baekhyun hisses, hitting Jongin on the arm. “Stop pointing.”

Instead of their regular rendezvous point in the music hall’s café, Baekhyun had insisted that they meet at the one in the business building instead. He’s heard a lot about it but has only been in here once before, to wait for Chanyeol to get out of his accounting exam before they went to get dinner. After he gets out of his morning class, Chanyeol should be joining them soon.

“Fuck, why are the sandwiches here so much better?” Kyungsoo marvels at his turkey sub in both amazement and anger.

“Guys, _pay attention_.” Baekhyun’s eyes dart to where students are exiting a lecture hall. Chanyeol walks out looking rather fine in a navy suit. He’s joking around with three other young men, dressed in a similar manner. It’s Kris, Sehun, and Jongdae. Their class presentation must have gone well, judging by how happy they look. Chanyeol had mentioned that he was worried about it.

“Holy fuck, that’s Kris Wu. Your boyfriend is friends with Kris Wu?” Jongin forgoes all subtlety and resorts to blatant staring.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Baekhyun clarifies. “And Chanyeol and Kris have been best friends since high school. Kind of like me and Kyungsoo.”

“Call me your best friend again and I’m snapping your bow in half.”

“Guys, Kris Wu is fucking legit,” Jongin says in awe. “He won a scholarship from some speech competition but the scholarship was worth more than tuition. They’re literally paying him to go to school.”

Baekhyun finds that hard to believe. He thinks back to all the times he’s seen Kris over at Chanyeol’s, foregoing homework in favor of playing video games, tripping over his words in a mish-mash of languages that would be difficult for anyone to understand.

“Which one is he?” Kyungsoo asks.

“The super tall one-- not the blonde one, that’s Sehun. Kris is the one with the strong eyebrows.”

“Who’s the short one then?”

“That’s Jongdae,” Baekhyun says. They watch as Jongdae exchanges fist bumps with Chanyeol.

“Oh my god,” Jongin gasps. “I heard he was on the charity choir last year and during one of their pasta fundraisers, the director yelled at him so he straight up dumped spaghetti sauce on his head and then left.”

“What the fuck,” Kyungsoo comments. “Should’ve known that these are the kinds of hooligans Baekhyun is hanging out with now.”

From across the atrium, Chanyeol spots Baekhyun and waves. Bidding his friends goodbye, he jogs over.

“Hey.” He takes off his suit jacket, hangs it over the chair, and takes a seat. “I’m really glad you wanted to meet here.”

Baekhyun beams. “I thought I would finally check this place out.”

“It’s good, right?” Chanyeol turns to the other two. “You guys must be Kyungsoo and Jongin.”

“We’ve heard a lot about you,” Jongin says.

Chanyeol chuckles. “I promise I won’t disappoint.”

“For your sake, I sure hope you don’t,” Kyungsoo whispers under his breath.

“What?”

“Ignore him.” Baekhyun slaps a hand over his best friend’s mouth. “Kyungsoo doesn’t know how to behave around strangers.”

“Okay,” Chanyeol says, eyeing Kyungsoo with a hint of wariness. “How did you guys want to schedule these practices?”

Jongin slides over a copy of the practice room timetables. “I was thinking we could meet once a week, and then increase that to three or four practices by next month? It would be easiest to meet at the music hall on Monday or Wednesday nights, right after Kyungsoo and Baekhyun finish studio.”

Chanyeol nods. “Are you guys okay with Wednesday? I have case team meetings on Mondays, so I’d prefer to keep that free.”

Kyungsoo, who’s finally pried Baekhyun’s hands off of him, manages to speak. “Case team?”

“For my case competition entry.” Chanyeol scratches the back of his neck. “It’s a business thing at the end of March, so don’t worry. It shouldn’t interfere too much when it comes to crunch time. I just need to manage my time accordingly.”

“You’ll be fine.” Baekhyun places a reassuring hand on Chanyeol’s. He pointedly ignores the look Kyungsoo gives him.

“Okay, so Mondays are no-goes,” Jongin says, crossing out those dates on the timetable. “We were also thinking that you could practice a little on your own time. You know, to catch up a bit?”

“I can do that,” Chanyeol says. “I’m just not sure how to-”

“I can help you,” Baekhyun interrupts. “I can coach you for a bit. And you probably don’t have access to all the practice rooms, right?” From across the table, Kyungsoo raises his eyebrows impossibly high.

They settle with an agreement to finalize music selections by next week. Around noon, Chanyeol leaves for class again and Jongin begs off to eat lunch with some kids his own age. Sometimes, he hangs around Kyungsoo so much that Baekhyun forgets he’s actually a year below.

“I think that went well,” he says, closing his laptop.

Kyungsoo isn’t smiling. “That’s debatable.”

“What do you mean?”

“I feel like you might be stretching yourself too thin.” Kyungsoo is winding up the wire of his laptop charger and his tone catches Baekhyun off guard.

“I’m not.”  
  
“This is spiralling into more than you said it would.”

“I don’t think it is. I’m just doing all the things I said I would.”

Kyungsoo turns to look at him seriously. “Baekhyun, doing this ensemble is already enough, and now you’re offering to monitor his practice sessions? Chanyeol seems like a nice guy--

“He _is_ a nice guy.”

“But you’ve been spending a lot of time with him lately. Sonata auditions are in a week.”

Baekhyun clenches his teeth. “I know. I haven’t forgotten.”

“Then I hope you also haven’t forgotten what happened last year. If you make the same mistakes again, and let the same thing--”

“ _Stop_ ,” Baekhyun bites out. He loves Kyungsoo, he really does, but he hates how easily his friend can dig into the core of everything. They knew each other too well. “I can take care of myself.”

“I’m just saying.” Kyungsoo slings his backpack over his shoulder. “You said you had a plan. So stick to it.”

 

-

 

Baekhyun schedules their first piano practice for the middle of February. It’s a biting cold that seeps through his gloves, all the way down to his bones. He soaks his hands in the bathroom’s lukewarm water for at good ten minutes before hunting down an open room.

Chanyeol gets there a little early. He catches Baekhyun in the middle of a runthrough on the piano -- it’s _Ave Maria_ , an old high school favorite.

He finishes the entire piece before spinning around to acknowledge the other. Chanyeol is dressed down today, in a white shirt and huge grey cardigan. His hair is growing out a little, curling gently at the edges, and Baekhyun wonders when he’s going to cut it.

“Hi,” he greets. “You’re here early.” Chanyeol smiles.

“That sounded really good.”

“Did it? I haven’t played in awhile.”

Chanyeol laughs. “Is playing multiple instruments expertly like, a music major thing?” he asks, thoughtful.

Baekhyun laughs too. “I come from a musical family, so playing a lot of instruments was just a natural progression. My mom is a concert cellist. She’s kind of a big deal. My dad works at a production company.”

“That’s cool. What else do you play?”

“I actually started on the piano, then violin, and picked up a bit of cello in middle school. I can do some harpsichord too.”

“Wow. Why did you choose violin then?”

Baekhyun thinks for a moment. “Honestly? It’s because violinists get the most solos.”

“You just love the attention, don’t you?” It’s a fair observation.

“Of course. I’m a music major. I _live_ for the attention.”

“I’m not surprised.”

Baekhyun laughs again. “Alright, that’s enough about me,” he says, beckoning Chanyeol into the room before shutting the door. He stands up straight, giving Chanyeol his full attention, and taps the hood of the piano firmly with his palm.

“Show me what you got, genius.”

 

-

 

The entire session flies by in no time at all. On Baekhyun’s end, it’s probably the most enjoyable practice he’s had in awhile. Ever since he decided to not rejoin the orchestra, the practice rooms have felt kind of lonely. Having another person in there really breathed some life back into it all.

On the technical side of things, Chanyeol is a lot farther along than Baekhyun had originally assumed. After speeding through the scales and rhythmic exercises, they tackled some of the old pieces in Chanyeol’s repertoire and even teased some light sight-reading on the first selection piece Kyungsoo had chosen. It had actually been kind of fun.

The real fun, however, comes much later, when they get home sometime around midnight. The both of them are about to part ways in the hallway when Baekhyun feels the urge to stay awake just a little longer.

“Hey, thanks for today,” Chanyeol says, smiling. He fishes around in his pocket for his keys, moving to unlock his door when he finds them. “I had a really good time.”

“Me too,” Baekhyun says, returning the expression.

They stand in front of Chanyeol’s apartment for a quiet moment. For a second, Baekhyun thinks he’s going to make a move but-- nothing. It’s getting late.

He’s about to say good night when suddenly, Chanyeol swiftly pulls him into his apartment, spinning around to pin Baekhyun to the closed door and kiss him hotly. It feels too good to question.

Baekhyun immediately feels heavy, a gravity that weighs down his limbs and droops his eyelids. It’s a heaviness that welcomes Chanyeol’s warm contact, everywhere and not enough at the same time. There’s a tongue in his mouth and if Baekhyun felt tired before, he's delirious now.

A sigh escapes his throat, the air in his breath stolen by Chanyeol’s mouth. He grabs silky, brown hair and tilts his entire body up so he can be kissed more fully. As always, Chanyeol complies.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about this today,” Chanyeol says, voice low. He towers over Baekhyun’s small frame and Baekhyun feels enveloped in heat, safe and comfortable. “I wanted to kiss you in the practice room so badly.”

Baekhyun pulls down Chanyeol for another kiss, sweeter this time.

“Maybe you should have.”

 

-

 

Baekhyun wakes up the morning of sonata auditions with a prickly nervousness under his skin. He also finds that his palms are sweaty, a phenomenon he has not encountered since middle school.

He feels seven years old again, moments before performing at his very first competition. He had stared out the fourteenth floor window, waiting for his turn to play with clenched fists, when a flurry of snow fell from the sky. He had so desperately wished he could be outside. His heart pounded at a million miles per minute and for a second grader who didn’t know what anxiety was, it felt like he was going to die.

He feels like he’s going to die right now.

His mind races for a distraction. Baekhyun thinks about how he needs to clean his room, how two of his classes were cancelled today. He thinks about playing the piano and he also thinks about the way Chanyeol had, true to his word, kissed him in the practice room during their next session. It was then that Baekhyun noticed Chanyeol’s ears were pierced, and then he’s thinking about how Soojung had given Jongin a pair of fancy earrings for his birthday two years ago and he had never thrown them away, long after they had broken up.

He thinks about Tao, having the time of his life abroad, and Luhan, playing for audiences of thousands in Europe, and then Baekhyun starts thinking about how that should be him, making a name for himself, if it weren’t for last semester -- _last semester_ \-- Baekhyun starts thinking about his injury, about his failure. He thinks about how much he needs to do well at this audition and now his breaths are becoming awfully short and--

Suddenly, there’s a sharp knock at his door. Baekhyun flinches, as if brought out of a trance. He walks over to answer it.

“Kyungsoo,” he says, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“How many years have I known you?” Kyungsoo asks. “I know how you get on competition days.” He walks in without preamble, immediately making himself at home in Baekhyun’s apartment.

“Here, listen to this and go brush your teeth. I’ll make breakfast.” He shoves two ear buds into Baekhyun’s ears.

Baekhyun recognizes the music almost instantly. It’s Bach’s unaccompanied cello suites, No. 1 in G Major, the first song on the Yo Yo Ma CD his mother had bought after he started playing cello in middle school. She would play it every weekend, letting the music fill their home while dreaming about how he would play like that too someday. Of course, he never did. The violin had completely ruined all other instruments for him.

He’s in the middle of brushing his hair when the next song plays, fluttery tones from the first few bars of the Butterfly Lovers Violin Concerto. It’s an eastern composition and personal favorite of his. The music quality is harsh, almost scratchy, like it had been recorded with a microphone rather than in a professional studio. That’s when Baekhyun realizes-- this isn’t the Shanghai Symphony Orchestra, it’s himself, three years ago, recording an audition entry that landed him a spot in in his first real concert. The first time he ever had an entire orchestra supporting him from behind, the first time he ever felt like he deserved to shine. Baekhyun smiles despite himself.

Kyungsoo was a genius. He was feeling better already.

 

-

 

The annual sonata competition goes like this: auditions on a selected piece, first rounds on a choice sonata, and second rounds on two other choice pieces. Junmyeon calls him the next morning to tell him that the list of first round semi-finalists has already been posted on the communal bulletin.

“Will I be happy with the results?” Baekhyun asks, clearly on edge.

Junmyeon laughs. “I think you should go see for yourself.”

“Are you laughing? Junmyeon, this is not a _laughing matter_. Should you be treating one of your students this way?”

“You make it too easy, Baekhyun.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not. I really can’t.”

“I’m being serious, Baekhyun. You need to see for yourself.” And then Junmyeon hangs up.

Baekhyun intercepts the cafe on his way to the bulletin. Their usual table happens to be taken but he spots Kyungsoo sitting on the couch at the far end of the espresso bar and walks over to his friend.

“Baekhyun,” he says, looking up from his book.

“So, audition results are up.”

“And?”

“Can you come with me to look at the semi-finalists? I need moral support.”

Kyungsoo sighs. “Fine,” he says, bookmarking his novel and shoving it in his backpack. “Let’s go.”

The morning passing period is over and the hallways are nearly empty when they get to the bulletin. Perfect -- on the off chance that he didn’t pass these auditions, Baekhyun doesn’t want anyone to witness the shameful breakdown that he’s about to experience.

He walks up to the board with both hands over his eyes, Kyungsoo following closely.

“Oh,” his friend says, peeking over his shoulder.

“Wh-what? Is it good?” Baekhyun feels a nervous jitter rattle through his body. His heart is in his throat and it feels like his pulse is going through the roof.

“Baekhyun, just look at the fucking list.”

He peeks through his fingers, eyes trailing down the list of names. _Byun, Byun, Byun, is there a Byun--_

Baekhyun takes his hands off his face and looks at a singular line on the list:

 

_Byun, Baekhyun_

 

“Oh my god,” he says.

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. “I swear to god, you’re so stupid.”

“Oh my god, I passed. Kyungsoo, I _passed_! Holy shit!”

Baekhyun probably hasn’t felt this happy since two years ago, when he made first chair for the undergrad philharmonic. He’d gone completely off the rails when the admittance sheet came out. Not even the sophomore chamber’s contempt had held down his excitement. It was a simpler time.

“Congratulations.” Kyungsoo smiles in a rare display of affection.

“Take me out to dinner,” Baekhyun demands. “You promised.”

“How about I cook you dinner instead?”

“Oh my god.” Baekhyun lights up. This day just keeps getting better. “Can we make kimchi spaghetti?”

“Yeah, we can.”

An hour later,  they’re in the cramped kitchen of Kyungsoo and Jongin’s apartment, starting a pot of pasta.

“I’ll chop the veggies,” Kyungsoo says, taking out a small jar of kimchi from the fridge. “And you can slice the kimchi.”

“Sure thing.” Baekhyun unscrews the jar.

“Make sure you’re careful though, don’t do it all at once-- wait, Baekhyun, I said don’t--”

Baekhyun dumps the entire jar onto the cutting board with a resounding _splat_.

“Oops.”

“You just splashed kimchi juice on my _white sweater--_ ”

“Wait, Kyungsoo, I’m so sorry--”

Kyungsoo raises his spatula, poised to whack his best friend, but doesn’t get a chance to because Baekhyun, thinking fast, takes both hands and smears red-orange juice all over his face.

Kyungsoo screeches, kimchi juice dripping down his cheeks, and flings a half-cooked noodle in Baekhyun’s direction. It sticks to his hair and takes a good five minutes to rinse out.

By the time the pasta finally makes it into the oven, they both need a change of clothes and the entire kitchen is left a mess (for Jongin to clean, of course). Baekhyun’s stomach almost hurts from laughing too much.

Today had felt ridiculously exceptional. Albeit small, things were finally taking a step in the right direction. After all, it’s the little victories that matter.

Sometimes, Baekhyun thinks, they’re all he has.

 

-

 

A week later, Baekhyun and Chanyeol crank out two hours of continuous practice before Baekhyun finally calls a break.

He paces in front of the piano, deep in thought, while Chanyeol sits on the floor against the opposite wall, scrolling on his phone. They stay like that for nearly ten minutes before Chanyeol clears his throat.

“So are we going to-“

“I’ve decided,” Baekhyun interrupts.

“What?”

“From now until the end of the competition, we’re going to lay down some ground rules.”

“What kind of ground rules.”

“First rule: no funny business. Practices will be strictly professional. What happened last Friday is a complete no-go.”

“You weren’t complaining too much when-”

" _Stop_.” Baekhyun tries to be stern but heat creeps up on his neck. He remembers how it felt when Chanyeol had blew him under the piano bench. It had been four in the morning, long after any students would still be lurking and well before any staff would come in. He almost chokes on his words.

“We need to learn how to separate your work space from where we do...other stuff. It’s not efficient.”

Chanyeol leans back and nods. “That’s fair. What’s rule number two?”

“To stop skipping your scales.”

“My scales sound fine,” Chanyeol scoffs.

“It’s not about how they sound, it’s about practicing movement. I want two sets of majors and minors, chromatics every other day, and also--”

“Please, no arpeggios--”

“--three sets of arpeggios. Daily.”

Chanyeol groans. “I hate arpeggios. You know my hands are too wide for the octave.”

“That’s exactly why you need to practice them more. An improved technique is going to show in your playing. I’m going to write this down for you.”

“Gee, thanks. You’re just like my old private teacher. When should I start paying you for lessons?”

“You should be thankful I’m doing this.” Baekhyun busies himself with pen and paper as he writes down Chanyeol’s prescribed scale regimen. “I’m not the best pianist here, but I’m definitely up there.”

“Your modesty is absolutely humbling. I also feel the need to point out that I’m literally here because you asked me to be.”

“So I’m helping you out, and you’re helping me out. It evens out in the end, right?” Baekhyun reasons.

“I guess,” Chanyeol grumbles.

Baekhyun gets up and walks to his bag, fishing out a thumb drive. “Rule three: I want you to listen to these sample recordings every day, or at least every other day.”

“Oh. Did you record yourself?”

“It’s not me. A friend of mine did a favor.”

“A friend?”

Baekhyun previously had a gut feeling that Chanyeol has probably never been anything more than a soloist. When it became apparent that this was true, Baekhyun phoned Luhan, asking his old friend to sight read and record the piano portion of their ensemble selection.

 

_“You want me to help out Park Chanyeol? No, fuck that guy. And fuck Jessica too, they took away my perfect record.”_

_“Luhan, be reasonable.”_

_“Fine, I’ll do it. But when I get back from tour, I’m challenging Chanyeol to a fight.”_

_“He’s like, twice your height.”_

_“Literally, Baekhyun, eat my entire ass. Ask me if I care.”_

_“Jesus, I forgot how crude you are.”_

_“Well, here’s a reminder then: I hope Chanyeol goes to hell.”_

_“You’ve never even met him, Luhan. Stop cussing, it’s a sin to swear with a face like that.”_

_“What the fuck did you say about my face? I’ll see you at your funeral, you piece of shit.”_

_“Just...send me the recording when you’re done.”_

_“Yeah, okay. You owe me ten thousand meals out for this.” And then he hung up._

 

“Um, yeah,” Baekhyun says. “A really good friend of mine recorded it.”

“Okay, then.” Chanyeol takes the flash drive. “What am I be listening for?”

“I just want you to get used to how it sounds when a professional plays. You need to learn more control.”

Chanyeol’s brow scrunches a bit. “Control?”

“I’m all for style, but you keep slowing down and speeding up whenever you want to. Stop doing that.”

“Lighten up, Baekhyun. You just need to--” Chanyeol flutters his fingers around in a vague gesture, “--feel the music.”

“What,” Baekhyun says flatly.

“Come on, just have a little bit of,” Chanyeol does the fluttery thing again, “imagination.”

“ _No._ ” Baekhyun taps the music on the sheet stand. “I want you to play exactly what’s on the page.”

“That’s no fun.”

“The tempo is _andante_ for a reason, I can’t have you sounding like a runaway train, ignoring your rests-”

“Okay, okay, I’ll fix it,” Chanyeol relents. “Now you sound _exactly_ like my old teacher.”

“I just want to stay on schedule. You’ll be able to play with the other ensemble members in no time.”

Chanyeol wrinkles his nose. “Right. The ensemble.”

“What’s wrong?”  
  
“I don’t think Kyungsoo likes me very much.”

“Oh my god,” Baekhyun laughs. “This is hilarious.”

“What’s so funny?”

“Don’t worry about Kyungsoo. He’s just an asshole.”

“Who also happens to be your best friend?”

“I’ve known him since I was five. I wouldn’t be too concerned if I was you. He’ll warm up to you in no time.”

Chanyeol looks dubious. “He will?”

“For sure. He’s only being mean to you because he thinks you’re going to ruin my comeback plan.”

“Oh yeah, for your gap semester,” Chanyeol says, thoughtful. “I guess that makes sense.”

“See, you get me.” Baekhyun starts gathering their sheet music. “It’s getting late. Let’s wrap this up.”

While leaving the building, they bump into Minseok, who Baekhyun introduces as a part-time grad student, part-time instrument caretaker. He’s balancing a load of heavyweight composition books in one arm and a box of rosin blocks in the other, but refuses when Baekhyun offers to help carry.

“No way,” he says. “Your wrists aren’t getting anywhere near these. Get some rest before sonata first rounds.”

“Your wrists?” Chanyeol asks.

And that’s when Baekhyun realizes that he’s never told Chanyeol exactly why he took that gap semester.

 

-

 

They get home around midnight, but Baekhyun has no desire to stay awake any longer. He’s got an early day of classes tomorrow. There’s also a lingering soreness in his joints, not to mention that he just relayed his entire sob story to Chanyeol on their walk back. Chanyeol had stayed quiet the entire time, nodding whenever Baekhyun reached a critical point in the turn of events. He hoped to god it didn’t change his perception about him.

Chanyeol turns to him after they get out of the elevator. “I would invite you to stay over,” he says, scratching his neck, “but Kris is coming later so we can finish some of our case competition slides.”

“It’s pretty late,” Baekhyun observes. “Are you sure these practice sessions aren’t taking up too much time?”

“I could say the same for you,” Chanyeol shoots back. “You don’t have to spend so much time taking care of me, you know? Especially now that I know why you left last year…” His gaze flickers to Baekhyun’s left hand. “I can handle myself.”

“Don’t worry about me, Chanyeol.” Baekhyun brings his left wrist up, circling it with his right pointer finger and thumb. “Obviously, nothing quick is going to fix everything that happened, but I’m working through it. I’m trying really hard. Harder than I did last year.”

Chanyeol fixes him with a steady gaze. “I know...I know that injuries can suck. Sehun-- you know Sehun? He actually danced with the American Contemporary Ballet, but he sprained his back his last year at school.”

“I didn’t know he was a dancer.” Baekhyun feels surprised but the more he thinks about it, the more it makes sense. Sehun has a tendency to put his foot in his mouth but when he doesn’t speak, his body moves with grace, long and lithe, meant for athleticism.

“I wouldn’t have guessed he was a dancer either. It’s a good thing he applied to this university as a backup because he ended up skipping out on all his ballet company auditions.”

“That sounds...terrible.”

“It does, but he’s fine now, you know? I’m glad he’s here-- my team would be completely lost without our marketing guy. Everyone figures it out eventually, right? I know you will too.”

Baekhyun feels reassured at Chanyeol’s words, even praised. It seems like after getting hurt once, everyone around him was just sitting on the edge of their seat, waiting for it to happen again. Treating him like if you got broken once, it would surely happen once more. But Chanyeol gives him what no one else had at the time -- faith.

“I...thanks. That’s really nice of you to say.”

“Of course. You’re the best violinist I know,” Chanyeol winks.

Baekhyun rolls his eyes. “I’m the _only_ violinist you know.”

“The only one I like enough to keep talking to, anyway,” Chanyeol corrects. He turns in the direction of his apartment. “Kris is going to get here soon so…”

“Go home already. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Have a good night, Baekhyun.”

“You too, Chanyeol.”

 

 


	3. Third Movement

The beginning of March brings an onslaught of deadlines, musical and academic alike, that seem to squeeze time into near obscurity. Baekhyun has barely stayed over at Chanyeol’s in the past week -- moments of leisure are hard to get when sleep becomes so precious.

It also feels like Chanyeol’s piano sessions just keep getting pushed back later and later, forgone in favor of Baekhyun’s own increasingly demanding practice schedule. Chanyeol is greatly understanding, citing case team meetings that he should attend anyways, but his leniency doesn’t eliminate the core of Baekhyun’s problems.

With his repertoire already behind from last semester’s leave, Baekhyun finds himself piling on more and more practice. His sonatas sound barely sufficient on competitive standards and Junmyeon had recently called him up to offer a solo at the semesterly symphonic showcase; it was stupid to say yes but he would’ve been a fool to say no.

Baekhyun tries to take the necessary breaks -- he really does -- but everything culminates on a Monday evening, during independent studio, when he’s bowing through the last measure of a Brahms piece that will, hopefully, be played at the showcase. A faint pain, dull like the edge of a butter knife, shoots through his wrist.

Baekhyun puts down his violin immediately. His classmates look at him curiously.

“What’s wrong?” Soojung says, her own violin sitting in her lap.

“Play without me,” Baekhyun answers, kneading a thumb into his left palm. “I think I need to take a break.”

“Okay.” They aren’t exactly friends, but Soojung knows him best out of everyone in the room. Knows not to question any further. “Where should I start?”

“Pick back up at the recapitulation.”

Baekhyun just sits there for the rest of studio, hyper focusing on the ghost in his left hand. It’s a phantom sensation, barely there, not even one-hundredth of the sharp pain he felt nine months ago, but it’s there. It freaks him out so much that immediately after class, he phones his doctor’s personal number, begging to schedule a visit for tomorrow.

The only appointment available on such short notice is in the morning, which means he’ll have to skip class for the first time this semester. It stresses him out so much that he even forgets to tell Kyungsoo, who will no doubt be furious that Baekhyun won’t be there to save the best seats.

The waiting room is reminiscent of a dentist’s office, familiar from the movie theater carpet to the family magazines piled on the side table. Even Taehyung, the office intern, had recognized him, remarking his surprise at seeing Baekhyun so soon after his last rehab visit, just three months ago. Baekhyun is surprised to be here too.

 _How could this happen_ , he thinks, staring blankly into the fish tanks. _How could this happen...again_.

Just two weeks ago, he had passed the sonata auditions. Ensemble practices were slowly coming along and despite the pressure of his case competition, Chanyeol was catching up fast. Even Junmyeon, who came to listen in on their practice, was pleased with the progress. For the first time this year, Baekhyun had recognized that things were finally starting to come together. And now it felt like they were going to fall apart.

“Baekhyun,” Taehyung announces. “The doctor is ready for you.”

 

-

 

Doctor Kim sends him off with a new wrist brace, in case his old one is too worn, and instructions to limit practices to no more than an hour at a time.

_“It’s really nothing serious. Just a little tension. You seem pretty stressed out too.”_

_“Should I wear the brace?”_

_“You can, but you really don’t have to.”_

_“I think I will then, just in case.”_

_“Stop worrying so much. You’re taking care of your body a lot more than before. You’ve grown.”_

_“Why does everyone keep saying that? I don’t feel like I’ve grown at all.”_

_“You need to be more positive. Don’t let what’s going on up here affect your entire body.”_

_“I’m having a hard time being positive about this.”_

_“I think you’d be surprised at what a little positivity can do for you.”_

Baekhyun remains unconvinced. When he leaves the office, he’s got three missed calls and a bunch of text messages, all from Kyungsoo.

 

_[10:28] baekhyun where are you_

_[10:28] are you coming to counterpoint today_

_[10:30] what happened to getting that 4.0_

_[10:56] hello ???_

 

_[11:42] I’m not taking notes for you_

_[11:48] okay I took notes for you_

_[11:48] are you dead_

 

Baekhyun laughs to himself and types:

 

_[12:02] I’m not dead but I sure wish I was_

_[12:02] just got out the doctor’s office_

 

Almost immediately, his phone rings. It’s Kyungsoo.

On a good day, Baekhyun would let it ring a couple times, just to piss him off. But Kyungsoo is probably worried. He picks up right away.

“Hey.”

“Are you okay? What’s wrong? Why were you at the doctor’s?”

“Slow down there, that’s a lot of questions.”

“Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo growls. “What’s going on?”

“My wrist hurt a bit during studio yesterday, so I came here. Doctor Kim said it was nothing.”

“Well, what do you think?”

“What do I think? Kyungsoo, I’m kind of freaking out right now.”

“You _dumbass_.” Through the phone, Kyungsoo’s voice sounds mean, but Baekhyun knows that in real life, he sounds meaner.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Kyungsoo says. “It doesn’t change a thing.”

 

-

 

On Wednesday, Baekhyun still makes it to studio but his violin stays in its case. He had practiced too much yesterday and decides to punish himself for it today. It’s stressful to only listen while his peers are playing, but listening is better than nothing. Baekhyun will take anything over nothing.

He almost forgets that he has practice scheduled with Chanyeol right after. If it weren’t for Chanyeol coming early and running into him in the hallway, he probably would not have even showed up.

They don’t make it to the practice rooms today. Chanyeol takes one look at him and speaks up.

“Hey,” he says, putting a hand over Baekhyun’s. His touch is warm and easy to lean into. Baekhyun feels close to tears. “Are you feeling okay?”

“It’s fine, I’m fine. I don’t know. I just-” Baekhyun pushes air through his nose. “I’m having a really bad day.”

“Is everything alright?”

“I…” Baekhyun clutches his left hand to his chest. “My wrist has been sore lately.”

“Oh. Does it hurt?”

“It doesn’t -- but I’m still freaking out. Everyone is telling me to chill but I just can’t shake the feeling that--”

“Hey, it’s fine,” Chanyeol interrupts, putting both hands on Baekhyun’s shoulders to steady him. “I have an idea.”

“What?”

“Come on.” Chanyeol puts his coat back on and walks toward the exit. “Follow me.”

“What are you doing?”

“We’re taking a break.”

“We take too many breaks.”

Chanyeol leads them outside into the twilight air and his hair tousles in the breeze, thin and light after the last dye job.

“Breaks are good sometimes,” he says. The waning sunlight casts a glow on Chanyeol face and it’s devastatingly attractive. If there wasn’t such pressing matters at hand, Baekhyun might even told him that.

Instead, he says: “We can’t afford to take another break.”

“Maybe you should’ve taken more breaks last year.”

“That’s not for you to judge,” Baekhyun bites out.

Chanyeol ignores the bitterness in his voice. “We’ve both been locked in the music hall for all of last week. I think you just need a change of location.”

“If you’re trying to make me feel better, I don’t think-”

“Show me around the conservatory.” Chanyeol sounds earnest in his insistence. “Walk me through it. I’ve never seen the entire thing.”

 

-

 

It takes a bit of cajoling and a couple of empty promises to make up for lost practice time, but Chanyeol eventually convinces Baekhyun to give him an impromptu tour.

“You’re like a child I have to appease,” Baekhyun grumbles, leading him around the cobblestone paths of the conservatory. It’s more dark than light and the steel lamp posts dotting the quad start to brighten.

“Well, there’s nothing childish about the way I treat y- _-oof!_ ” Baekhyun punches him hard on the shoulder. “Hey! What was that for?”

“You always say the dumbest things.” Baekhyun stops at the stone steps that lead to the front entrance of the orchestra hall. “Come on, let’s go.”

They arrive at a cavernous atrium with hanging lights and black tiles. The space pours out into an open lounge area, lined with couches and café tables before branching off into staircases and elevators. Despite the time of day, there are students everywhere. It’s bustling loud.

“We call this the pit,” Baekhyun says. “Literally everyone spends their time here when they’re not practicing.” Chanyeol looks around in amazement.

“I feel like there’s an entire ecosystem of students here that I’ll never understand.”

“Don’t bother,” Baekhyun says. “I haven’t even figured it out.”

They snake around the pit and Baekhyun is careful to point out lunch table cliques and social circles to a fascinated Chanyeol, who looks like a kid at the zoo for the very first time. There’s classical musicians and percussionists, contemporary purists and band kids, and, of course, the fucking jazz artists.

“What do you have against jazz?” Chanyeol says. “I love jazz.”

“You know what, the fact that you even have to ask means that you’re a lost cause.”

“Not all of us can be as cultured as you,” Chanyeol sniffs.

When they get to the third floor, Baekhyun starts telling stories.

“This is the practice room that I hate the most,” he says, pointing one out at the end of the hall. “I locked myself in there for seven hours during freshman year, practicing for a performance final. It’s a miracle I didn’t kill myself.”

“I don’t know how you did that,” Chanyeol comments. “It’s not even midnight and this place is already giving me the heebie jeebies.”

“Oh, I was definitely scared,” Baekhyun clarifies. “Don’t even get me started on the haunted bathrooms on the fifth floor.”

Chanyeol pales. “The what.”

On the eleventh floor, past the tiny restrooms and symphonic homeroom, is a tiny stairwell that exits to the balcony, composed of a stone floor fortified with steel railings. From there, the entire campus skyline can be seen, affording a view that stretches on for miles.

“This is amazing,” Chanyeol marvels, coming to the edge of the railing. “I didn’t know we had this.”

Baekhyun points out a dotted light in the distance. “That’s the business building.” He shifts his finger over a bit. “And that’s our apartment complex.”

“This is so cool.” The awe in Chanyeol’s voice is endearing.

“Don’t hold your breath,” Baekhyun laughs. “We haven’t even visited my favorite place yet.”

Because he loves a good finale, Baekhyun saves the best for last -- the concert hall. Its ceilings are vaulted, huge and dimly lit, and their footsteps echo down the hall endlessly.

“This place has the best acoustics, obviously. I used to practice here at night, but then the janitor started kicking me out.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“It is, isn’t it?”

Baekhyun turns toward the theater, pushing the double doors open with both arms. It’s vastly empty and Baekhyun feels breathless, in a good way. Chanyeol is right -- maybe a change in location was just what he needed.

Struck by sudden impulse, Baekhyun dashes down the rows. Behind him, Chanyeol silently follows.

He’s eighteen years old again, looking up from the seats wondrously, and Baekhyun remembers what it had felt like to watch upperclassmen, three years his senior, play the most beautiful music he’d ever heard. In a rush of courage, he climbs onto the proscenium with his hands and feet and crosses the stage to the enormous concert grand tucked by the curtain, its lid still open.

Baekhyun starts a slow scale that peters out to the first bars of _Ave Maria._ For a few, glorifying seconds, every inch of space is filled with his music.

In the final repeat, his third and fourth fingers struggle with a measure-long trill. It’s a line he wishes he had the time to perfect.

“I can never get this part,” he mutters softly.

The stage is immense, but Baekhyun is sure that Chanyeol can hear every breath.

 

-

 

Junmyeon is currently at a meeting and the desk clerk said he wouldn’t get back for another half hour, so Baekhyun gingerly side-steps her, walks into Junmyeon’s office, and slumps into the couch.

He must’ve looked severely despondent or at least mildly depressed, because she doesn’t even attempt to stop him from going in without permission. Baekhyun sinks into the cushions and realizes that Junmyeon had been right; this couch is definitely ugly but it sure is comfortable.

His eyes idly trail around the room, from the bookshelf to the ceiling light to Junmyeon’s grand old desk, a cherry wood stained dark. On the table, Junmyeon has an old-fashioned library lamp, a stack of coasters, and of course, his water boiler. Just the sight of it makes Baekhyun snort.

The walls are decorated with countless plaques, awards, and certificates. There’s framed pictures of graduation scenes, Junmyeon shaking hands with older students who no doubt owed much of their success to his exceptional mentoring. Baekhyun focuses on each of their faces.

There have been so many before him, battling much worse and continuing to do great things. Every musician ends up on the same playing field. Rising to the top means persisting, means persevering. This is a marathon, not a one-time sprint. But Baekhyun isn’t good at long-distance.

Baekhyun wants to shine, wants to climb up onto the pedestal of accomplished musicians and show the world that he’s worth something special, that he isn’t just another desperate artist, starving for attention. He wants to prove that he is not without the merit to dignify his desire. But in the end, it still hurts, cuts deep like a knife, and Baekhyun doesn’t think he’ll ever heal from this fear.

“Hello? Baekhyun?” Junmyeon enters the room. His meeting must have ended early.

“Junmyeon,” Baekhyun says, sitting up straight.

“How are you?”

“I’m sorry I came here without scheduling an appointment, I just--”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind,” Junmyeon says, taking a seat at his desk. He turns on his water boiler. “Tea?”

“You ask me that everytime. I don’t think I’ve ever said yes once.”

Junmyeon just shrugs. “You never know.” He takes out a mug for himself and sets it down.

“So, what’s up?”

“Has Kyungsoo told you anything?”

“Kyungsoo mentioned that something was wrong, but he didn’t say what. He said it was better that you told me yourself.”

Baekhyun bites his lip. “It’s really nothing big. I felt a little pain in my wrist the other day. The doctor said I just needed some rest and to stop stressing out so much. And I’ve been taking breaks, I _swear_. It’s helping but now I feel like I’m falling behind and...‘’ he trails off.

“Go on,” Junmyeon says, nodding encouragingly.

“--and I’m just feeling a little lost. This entire semester was supposed to be about catching up, not falling behind again.”

Junmyeon thinks for a moment. “Do you want me to be honest with you?” he says.

“I think you would be honest with me even if I said no,” Baekhyun mumbles.

Junmyeon laughs. “I think you’re being a little too hard on yourself,” he says, pouring hot water into his mug. “Even after leaving for an entire semester, you’re still considered one of the best musicians in your year.”

“Are you kidding me? I can’t even keep it together for a week without having to cut practices short. I haven’t played anything in my last three studio classes. Don’t exaggerate, Junmyeon. I’m nowhere close to where I should be.”

“Don’t say it like that. I’m just thankful that your condition isn’t anything worse.”

Of course. He should be thankful. Thankful that’s it’s not serious, thankful that everyone around him liked him enough to deal with his shitshow. Thankful that he can still even play. But he’s not. He’s selfish, greedy, and above all, unsatisfied. He’s taken so much to the point that he can’t give anything back to himself, even if he wanted to.

“Junmyeon, I don’t want to be _just fine_. I want to be at my best again. I want to be where I was a year ago.”

“Baekhyun, I’m not trying to fight you on this,” Junmyeon sighs. “You shouldn’t cheat yourself out of the progress you’ve made. You’re nowhere near where you were a year ago -- you’re a lot further.”

“Doesn’t feel that way, though,” Baekhyun grumbles.

“The issue here,” Junmyeon says, “is that you’re a perfectionist. When you set yourself to do something, you give it your literal everything, and sometimes, that’s too much.”

“I don’t see the point in not giving my all.”

“This is where you’re wrong. For at least a period of time, you need to lower your standards and accept that some things will have to suffice with eighty or ninety perfect perfection. Otherwise, you risk losing everything.”

Baekhyun isn’t happy and it shows on his face. “I don’t like to compromise quality.”

“You won’t be, I promise. I think your bar is just naturally set a little higher than everyone else’s.”

“Whatever you say, Junmyeon.”

Junmyeon just laughs. “This is the curse with all the good musicians. Sometimes, you guys are just too good, even for yourselves.”

 

-

 

Baekhyun has a habit of finding an open practice room and remaining there for more than five or six hours at a time. He’ll practice for an hour, do homework for an hour, practice for another hour, and so on.

Since he’s been temporarily banned from this usual routine ( _“You need to get out of that building,” Junmyeon had said. “I’m telling Minseok to restrict your access.”_ ), Baekhyun finds himself at a loss of where he should do his work.

He always did his homework in the practice rooms. He wasn’t like Kyungsoo, with a steel focus that gave him the ability to do efficient work in a loud cafe, and doing work at home just wasn’t productive for Baekhyun.

“Come to the library with me,” Chanyeol suggests. “It’s quiet and peaceful and I always get a lot of work done there.”

“Sure,” Baekhyun says, dubious. “I’ll try it out.”

Chanyeol takes him to the law library, all the way on the north end of the campus. It’s grand, even regal, with large stone pillars and wide staircases. Baekhyun thinks it’s absolutely and overwhelmingly beautiful. The enormous book shelves give way to an open space, lined with rows of large tables, conveniently equipped with lamps and outlets.

“Have you never been in here?” Chanyeol says, chuckling at Baekhyun’s dazzled expression.

‘Never,” he replies. “I don’t even go to the music library.”

They scour around for a good table, walking quietly when Baekhyun leans up to whisper into Chanyeol’s ear.

“It is always so quiet? I feel like everytime I breathe, someone glares at me.”

“Of course it’s quiet, Baekhyun. It’s a library.”

“It’s _too_ quiet.”

“Wait,” Chanyeol says, voice barely a whisper. “Follow me.”

He leads Baekhyun through the pathway between all the tables, passing by all the studying students. They make their way through winding bookcases, navigating the archives, and they must have entered a different section of the building because the lighting has changed, become more faded, and Baekhyun can see large arched windows, affording a view outside.

They’re deep in the library’s interior, surrounded by enormous shelves, tall almost like walls, and Baekhyun looks up to see hundreds of thousands of encyclopedia volumes shelved above him. He officially had no idea where he was, having lost track way back in the fiction section.

They stop at a study space, located a breathable distance between the wall and the shelves. There’s a massive table situated against the wall and there’s also small couches on the other side of the space, presumably set aside for some casual reading. Baekhyun guesses that they don’t get used too much.

“Is this better?” Chanyeol asks, now speaking at normal volume.

“Well, it’s certainly...cozy.”

“I discovered this spot last year when all the study spaces in the business building were taken during finals week.”

“I guess it is far away from everything, less distractions,” Baekhyun ponders.

“And whatever happens here, no one will really hear.” Chanyeol wiggles his eyebrows.

“No one will really…” Baekhyun suddenly connects the dots. “ _Chanyeol_ ,” he says, punching the other on the shoulder. “I actually have a lot of work to finish!”

In his search for a peaceful study space, Baekhyun forgot to consider the biggest distraction of them all: Chanyeol. Not that he’s complaining too much.

“Five minutes, Baekhyun. Come on, it’ll give you something to look forward to after we leave.” Chanyeol’s hands come to rest at Baekhyun’s waist and Baekhyun leans into the touch, placing a cheek on Chanyeol’s broad chest, comfortable.

“Alright,” he says, tipping his head up for a kiss. “Just five minutes.”

 

-

 

Sunday finds Baekhyun back to the music hall café, sitting across the table from Kyungsoo.

He’s weighing the options between Debussy and Strauss for his second round choice selection. The sucker punch about the sonata competition is that first and second rounds are only held two weeks apart; audition finalists are supposed to bring both pieces up to speed without knowing if they would even get past first rounds.

Baekhyun definitely plans on making it to second rounds, but the process is still frustrating. On top of that, he figures he’d better keep a couple backup pieces too.

Jongin pops in later to grab his afternoon caffeine.

“Hey, how’s your wrist?” he asks.

“It’s fine. I’m still observing in studio, though. Just in case. I need to be ready for first rounds.”

“You’re still going to studio? Just skip class.”

“Skip- what, ski- _skip class_ ?” Baekhyun splutters. “I can’t _skip class_. I need my 4.0.”

“Well, I don’t see how it helps to go if you’re not going to play.”

“God, Jongin, don’t you know _anything_ about music? It’s about listening! Listening helps!”

“And everyone’s okay with you just sitting?”

“They’re fine with it. Soojung took all my parts.”

Jongin bristles slightly at the mention of Soojung. He’s good at hiding his reaction, but Baekhyun is even better at noticing it.

“Jongin, you’re going to have to get over her _eventually_.”

“Shut up. You’re in _no_ position to lecture me on this kind of stuff.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“What do I mean? Well, how’s Chanyeol?” Jongin asks and almost knocks down all their drinks when he reaches across the table to nudge Baekhyun on the shoulder.

“Jesus Christ, watch it.” Baekhyun clutches his coffee cup closer. “Chanyeol’s fine. You saw him at ensemble practice.”

“Yeah? That’s not what I meant though.” Jongin isn’t smiling, but his expression turns devious. “I talked to Yixing today. He said he saw you guys at the bar together.”

Kyungsoo raises his eyebrows and speaks for the first time in this conversation. “Baekhyun, what?”

Oops. Well, Jongin did have him there.

It’s true -- Baekhyun had been at Chanyeol’s, finishing up his theory readings while Chanyeol’s case team worked on their pitch. Around eleven, Jongdae had proposed they take a break and invited everyone, including Baekhyun, out for drinks. It felt rude to refuse.

“What’s the big deal? It was just a couple of drinks.”

“That, and your late night library study sessions,” adds Kyungsoo, who is awful and never again to be trusted.

“No way.” Jongin’s face brims with delight at this new information. “Just admit it. You guys are dating.”

Baekhyun feels his face heating up. His insides feel funny. “It’s not like that.”

 _We’ve never even talked about it_ , he thinks. He feels attacked from a million directions.

“So you _don’t_ have feelings for him? Just like I’m _not_ over Soojung?”

“Fine, fine,” he mutters. “I’ll lay off about the Soojung thing.”

“Can’t we just admit that we all have problems?” Jongin asks. Then he turns to Kyungsoo. “Except you. You seem to always be fine.”

Kyungsoo looks up from his homework.

“No, I definitely have problems too,” he disagrees. “It’s you guys.”

 

-

 

Baekhyun had left Junmyeon’s office unconvinced that day, but he decides to follow the advice anyways because Junmyeon has never steered him wrong before. If he got Baekhyun through one crisis already, he could certainly help him again.

For a period of time, it works, quells his spirit when he tells himself that it’s okay to put his violin back in its case, even if there are a couple measures that can sound a little better. Baekhyun learns, or at least tries, to lower his standards. This new tactic helps him put together a compact practice schedule and his wrist feels better than it did before.

It does not, however, get rid of the nagging feeling of dissatisfaction growing in the back of his mind. He’s been sloppy, sacrificing little details that he would typically pore over with great intensity. It’s frustrating to surrender quality in the face of completion. This feeling is easy to ignore on some days, but more difficult on others.

Today is one of the difficult days. Baekhyun leaves studio extremely disappointed. The philharmonic conductor had unexpectedly decided to sit in, evaluating their state of progress for the showcase. They were halfway through the first movement of Brahms, speed picking up just slightly, when he had suddenly raised his hand and said:

 

_“Stop.”_

_“What?” Baekhyun freezes, mid-bow._

_“Play from the introduction to the development again. Stop at the repeat, I’m going to have Soojung pick up from the there.”_

_“I--what? But I always play through the entire movement.” Baekhyun turned to Soojung, who looked just as confused._

_“Are we switching parts, sir?” she asked._

_“Not for now, no. But I would like to Soojung play out the rest. Baekhyun, if you could please.”_

_Baekhyun positions his fingers, reorienting himself for the beginning of the piece. “Of course, sir,” he muttered. And then he started playing._

 

The conductor had ensured that he wasn’t going to change much-- but his tone indicated something else. Baekhyun’s playing has deteriorated enough to put doubt in his mind about letting Baekhyun keep the solo. The thought is enough to make his gut curl in uneasiness. Having the solo is nothing special, but losing it would be worse than pathetic. After all, losing something you already have is more painful than never having it in the first place-- Baekhyun knows.

His logical mind tells him that it’s nothing to worry about -- he had more than enough time to get things ready before rehearsals. By then, there would be no doubt in anyone’s mind about his capability. But a part of him is not happy with leaving things to get better with _just a little bit of time._  Junmyeon said he needs to scale back, needs to accept things at less than perfection, but Baekhyun doesn’t _like_ doing that, doesn’t like settling when he knows it could be better.

He knows exactly where he needs to be. It’s just the getting there part that’s hard.

 

-

 

Baekhyun half-expects to feel better by the time Chanyeol’s practice rolls around but even then, his mind remains a slave to his worries. He stares off into clear space, so preoccupied that he doesn’t even notice when Chanyeol stops playing.

“Baekhyun?” Chanyeol asks. “Did you hear what I said?”

“I--um, what?” Baekhyun says, blinking profusely. He shakes his head. “Sorry, can you say that again?”

“Yeah, can you help me with this part over here?” Chanyeol points to two lines on the page. “Or just show me how I should do it?”

It’s a simple two lines, marked with quarter notes in the right hand, triplet eighths in the left. That’s probably what was giving Chanyeol so much trouble. Baekhyun prods him on the shoulder and Chanyeol shifts a bit, giving Baekhyun enough space to sit down next to him.

“Alright,” he says, gingerly placing his hands on the keys. “Let’s see.”

His fingers reach the notes easily, despite almost elbowing Chanyeol at every octave change. Baekhyun carefully follows the beat, keeping a slow count in his head as he executes a particularly shrewd chord combination. He reaches the retransition of the next line when the notes begin to feel tight. At the next measure, his third and fourth fingers, the same ones which always trouble him, become stuck on a small trill.

“Fuck,” he whispers, and tries again. It comes out severely uneven. Rough and jagged, like an ameteur. And then he tries again, and again, and again. Baekhyun feels hot shame wipe through his body as the repetitive movement freezes up his right hand, unable to even finish the measure.

He couldn’t play the violin, and now he couldn’t even play piano. Could he even do anything? How is he supposed to teach Chanyeol when he can’t even complete a trill, one of the simplest notations in all of music--

“Fuck!” He strikes an angry hand down on the keys, letting out an ugly, dissonant chord.

“Baekhyun, are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay-- _fuck_. I’m sorry, that sounded terrible, let me just--” he tries to play the measures again.

“You don’t have to do that, Baekhyun--” Chanyeol places a hand on Baekhyun’s forearm and Baekhyun flinches hard, like a spooked animal.

“Don’t touch me!” he exclaims, wrenching his arm from Chanyeol’s grasp. He stands up abruptly, releasing a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. Chanyeol looks up at him, eyes wide.

“Baekhyun?”

“I’m--I’m so sorry,” he says, putting his hands over his face. He digs the heels of his hands into his eyes, willing the tears to stop.

“Hey,” Chanyeol says, prying his hands off and holding them in his own. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Baekhyun snaps. He pauses for a moment before letting out a deep sigh. “Everything’s wrong. I’m so behind. I’m not practicing as much as I should be.” He’s babbling, trying to keep Chanyeol from hearing the break in his voice, but it doesn’t work. His voice shakes anyways.

“I promised you I would help and now I’m not even doing that-- god, what’s the point of even being at this school if I can’t get out a decent practice session-- and it’s just a _mess_ , you must think I’m just a huge mess--”

“Hey, just relax.” Chanyeol pulls him to sit back down. “You want to listen to something?”

Baekhyun looks are him, confused. He blinks back the moisture in his eyes. “What?”

“I’ve been practicing on my own. Just something small, but I really like it. I think you will too. Kyungsoo said that listening to music always calms you down, as long as you’re not the one playing it.”

“You...you’ve been talking to Kyungsoo?”

“Yeah, I guess he finally warmed up to me.” Chanyeol gives him a small smile.

“And you’ve been practicing on your own? Since when?” Between his classes and ensemble practices and case competition, when did Chanyeol have the time? Baekhyun has no idea.

“Kris and I submitted all our case material last week. Don’t worry about me, I have tons of free time now.”

“I thought...that wasn’t until the end of March.”

“Our presentation’s at the end of March, silly. We’re done with everything else.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah, so I kind of started practicing by myself. It was meant to be like, a surprise for you.”

Something in Baekhyun’s chest aches. He doesn’t deserve surprises like this. “Really?” he asks, voice small.

“Yeah!” Chanyeol smiles wider, his entire face lighting up. “It needs some more work, but it’s honestly good enough now. It’ll take your mind off things.”

Baekhyun sniffs, trying to gather the last bits of his composure. “Well, can I hear it now?”

“Of course. Just hold tight.” Chanyeol puts his fingers into position before looking at Baekhyun one last time.

“By the way, it’s going to be Mendelsohn,” he winks. “I know you love Mendelsohn.”

And then he starts playing.

It opens on an arpeggio sequence, G minor-- a miserable key, but the higher notes are tied in a harmony that begs a different mood, something more hopeful. The melody pushes through unapologetically, rising and falling like the waves of an ocean.

Chanyeol holds a dotted quarter too long, the eighth too short, and the final notes of a crescendo crash in a blaring hush that has Baekhyun holding and releasing his breath all over again. The tones separate in a series of suspended chords, played softer and softer with each succession, and Baekhyun can feel in his heart the crest of a pinnacle, like a soft rush of air to his lungs.

The right hand carries a strenuous melody, supported by the baritone in the left. Its rhythms are uneven and unmatched in their tempo, no doubt an effect of Chanyeol's own personal flair. There’s no metronome, no sheet music, no guidance. It’s just him, the piano, and the notes in between. It’s music, straight down to its purest form.

It’s the kind of music that, after years of schooling, Baekhyun had almost forgot existed. Chanyeol plays for no audience, no reward, and definitely not prestige. He plays out emotions, chasing the bare concept that a simple melody could possibly make someone feel _something_. It’s the reason why anyone would get into music in the first place, but almost everyone would eventually forget.

Chanyeol hasn’t forgotten.

He plays like he's pouring his soul out through his hands, reckless where it slips through the keys, seeps to the damper, and flows down the length of the strings. If Baekhyun gathers the notes and maps them into the sky, the constellations would glow in an entire world view, a principal much bigger than himself. Suddenly, he feels very, very small.

Chanyeol plays out the last three measures incredibly slow, slower than any composer would have liked, but Baekhyun finds that he loves it. The notes resound in perfect completion and Chanyeol looks up, eager.

“Did you like it?” he asks. His eyes are bright and once again, Baekhyun finds him impossible to deny.

“I loved it,” he replies. He can’t help the tremble in his voice. The tears are coming up again. He’s really proud of Chanyeol.

“Hey, come here. Don’t cry.” Chanyeol opens his arms and Baekhyun leans forward, lets himself melt into the embrace.

“It sounded really good,” he says, voice muffled in the hug. Chanyeol’s sweater smells like lavender fabric softener, tinged with his oaky cologne. Baekhyun simply clasps tighter, wants to burrow into Chanyeol's warm, broad chest and make a home for himself. He feels a hand come up to stroke through his hair, gentle to the touch, and there comes an overwhelming surge of affection, feels like it could burst through his rib cage.

Baekhyun has a terrible fondness in his heart, aching like he’s missing something, and suddenly, it doesn’t feel fair.

Chanyeol isn’t fair.

How can you miss something you never had?

 

 


	4. Finale

Because the universe has little regard for people’s problems, life does not end when Byun Baekhyun realizes that he loves Park Chanyeol. The sun still rises the next day, Baekhyun still wakes up for class, and practice time still rolls around. The only thing different is that now, Baekhyun yearns a little more. He’s not sure if it’s a feeling he should ignore or not.

They’re walking out of ensemble practice, Jongin laughing at some dumb joke Chanyeol made and Kyungsoo rolling his eyes, when Baekhyun realizes how temporary this all could be. In less than two months, the competition would be over, these practice sessions would end, and Baekhyun would no longer have an excuse to walk home together with someone late at night. The feeling is ephemeral, fleeting as soon as it comes, but leaves behind a pleading optimism in his heart, one that almost wishes things could stay this way forever. Is he allowed to want things like that?

Practice had been good. Little progress was made and they were truly clawing for every additional rung on the metaphorical ladder, but it was the kind of progress that left room for hope. The instruments didn’t quite fit together yet, awkwardly knocking against each other like the pieces of a puzzle that weren’t cut right. But they would fit, eventually. All it needed was just a little more time.

It’s almost ten when they finally make it out of practice, Chanyeol using his long arms to hold the door open for everyone. The late March wind blows over and Baekhyun shivers, a full-body shudder wracking through his limbs.

“I think that went well,” Kyungsoo comments, wrapping a scarf around his neck. “Could be better, but I don’t want to ask for too much.”

Jongin nods in agreement. “I think we can manage one more practice this week.”

“Or two,” Baekhyun mutters. There’s another bout of wind and he shivers again. “Fuck, it’s cold.”

Kyungsoo pinches his ear. “You idiot. Did you not bring a jacket out today?”

“Ow! I thought it was going to be nice out!” Baekhyun complains, jumping to the side to avoid Kyungsoo’s grip while simultaneously knocking into Chanyeol’s tall stature. “And it was. I just didn’t think it would already be dark by the time we finished.”

“The state we’re in, I think we’re always going to be practicing until dark,” Jongin says. It’s a somber statement, but one that’s also true, which makes Baekhyun frown even more.

Suddenly, there’s a comforting weight on his shoulders. Chanyeol has given him his cardigan, the same grey cardigan he wore to their very first practice session. It feels warm and comforting, just like everything else Chanyeol owns. Baekhyun internally screams because _really_? Nice things like this is definitely not going to help Baekhyun get over Chanyeol. He doesn’t know if he even wants to get over Chanyeol.

“Geez, you’re way too nice,” Jongin comments, pulling his own coat tighter around himself.

“You just wish that Soojung was here so you can give your coat to her,” Baekhyun snaps back.

“Well, aren’t you just absolutely hilarious,” Jongin says flatly, dealing a swift kick toward his legs. His foot probably would’ve made it to Baekhyun’s knees if Kyungsoo didn’t choose that moment to drag the cellist back by the collar of his jacket.

“Boys, boys,” Kyungsoo scolds. “Calm down, we’re all tired here. Let’s just go home.”

“Sorry,” Jongin grumbles.

Baekhyun mumbles out an apology too before turning to look at Chanyeol. “But really, I don’t need this,” he says, halfway to shrugging off the cardigan and giving it back.

Chanyeol puts a firm hand on his shoulder. “Baekhyun, it’s fine. You’re cold.”

“Aren’t you cold too?” Baekhyun tilts his head up, questioning.

“It’s fine,” Chanyeol repeats. “We’re headed home anyways. You can give it back to me then.”

Kyungsoo looks at Baekhyun with knowing eyes, opening his mouth like he’s going to say something, but flapping it closed. He probably doesn’t want to say it in front of Jongin and Chanyeol.

They’re back at their apartment building when Chanyeol unlocks his door and says:

“Wanna just sleep over today?”

That’s all it takes for Baekhyun to nod tiredly and go in with him. They both drop their bags by the door and Chanyeol heads to the bathroom while Baekhyun goes straight to the bedroom. He sheds his day clothes on the floor, hangs Chanyeol’s cardigan up on the desk chair, and fishes out a spare shirt from the dresser before crawling into the sheets.

He’s nearly comatose by the time Chanyeol gets in bed too, feels a light kiss pressed to his forehead before an overbearing warmth settles at his side and they both doze off to a dreamless sleep.

Baekhyun falls so heavily into slumber that he forgoes his first and second alarm the next morning. It’s only until his third alarm rings, the last resort that tells him that he has _fifteen minutes before class starts_ , that Baekhyun bolts up in bed, puts on whatever clothes he can find, and scurries out of Chanyeol’s apartment without even saying goodbye.

He ends up running to class in an odd combination of last night’s jeans, one of Chanyeol’s soft, blue v-necks, and the same cardigan he had lent him yesterday. Baekhyun rubs a hand against his forehead and frowns as it comes away a little oily. He can usually get away with not washing his face for a day or two, but sleep has been hard to come by recently and there’s a little stress pimple threatening to break out on the bridge of his nose. He definitely should not have skipped his night routine yesterday but to his defense, it had been late. He was tired and Chanyeol’s bed has this amazing memory foam mattress topper that can soothe the sorest of bodies.

Baekhyun rolls up to counterpoint right as the professor starts her lecture, navigating through full rows of people with _sorry_ s and _excuse me_ s before sliding in the seat that his lord and savior, Do Kyungsoo, has saved him.

While Baekhyun reaches into his backpack for a notebook, Kyungsoo wordless slides over a cup of coffee.

“Oh my god, thank you so much,” Baekhyun whispers before taking a sip of the caffeinated lifeblood.

“Nice cardigan,” Kyungsoo whispers back.

Baekhyun rolls his eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

He’s got a full day of class ahead of him, which means that Baekhyun is stuck in this outfit until at least five. It smells like Chanyeol, that clean laundry scent and gentle cologne. Wearing it makes him smell like Chanyeol too. Baekhyun doesn’t know why this bothers him so much. This is definitely not the first time he’s borrowed Chanyeol’s clothes but it is the first time he feels so guilty about it.

He can’t take off the cardigan because it’s awfully cold today and even if he did, there was still the shirt, a little big on him but comfortable all the same. Maybe Kyungsoo was right.

He should have just worn a jacket yesterday.

 

-

 

Baekhyun waits nervously outside the presentation room, feeling severely out of place. He’s been to the business school a million times before, always in passing, but never once felt like he could ever get used to its atmosphere.

The building is all tall steel beams, shiny glass, and smooth wood floors. Everyone seems exceptionally well-dressed all the time and even the cafe looks methodical, lining up a queue system that made the shoddy, indie cafe in the music hall look like complete hipster trash. Despite the huge windows, this place felt like, in every sort of way, a prison.

Baekhyun doesn’t really know how case competitions work, only that Chanyeol has spent weeks, even months, working toward this final presentation. He half-expects the ruckus he’s used to from performance competitions, parents with flowers, friends for moral support, teachers with last minute pep talks. Instead, Baekhyun passes by the waiting room and sees stern men and women in suits, pacing around seriously. There’s a guy fixing his tie and another instructing his teammates like he’s explaining a strategic battle plan. Baekhyun is definitely glad he didn’t bring those flowers.

It’s been nearly half an hour since Chanyeol’s team had gone in. Their presentation was only meant to be fifteen minutes long, so the judges really must have been going in on question time. Baekhyun knows this because Chanyeol had been freaking out about this exact possibility last night, refusing Baekhyun’s coaxings to _just let it go_ and _please come back to bed_.

The doors to the presentation room suddenly open and an official looking guy with a clipboard steps out, followed by Jongdae and Sehun, deep in conversation. A few seconds later, Kris and Chanyeol come out, waving goodbye to whoever else was inside. They all shake hands with the clipboard man, who then calls in the next case team and then the doors are closed and the hallway is quiet again.

“Hi Baekhyun,” Sehun softly greets, lowering his head in a faux bow. For all the comments that people make about his domineering height and detached face, Sehun is really just a nice, polite kid. Baekhyun waves back with a smile before following them out the exit. They all look a little stressed so he decides not to ask too many questions.

“ _Wow_ ,” Jongdae says once they’re out the building. “That was a fucking rush.”

“I know right,” Kris agrees. “By the way, Chanyeol, good job on that market projection question. I had no idea what to say.”

“No problem,” Chanyeol mutters. “I just hope it didn’t look like I pulled that answer out of my ass, because I did.”

He sticks a finger into the knot of his tie, pulling it loose. For a moment, Baekhyun thinks the patten on the tie looks awfully familiar before realizing that he was the one who helped pick it out in the first place.

“So,” Kris says. “My business frat is partying tonight. Pregame at my place, you’re all invited. Everyone in?”

They all nod in agreement before turning to Baekhyun. He honestly feels flattered that they would even consider him in the first place.

“Maybe next time,” he says with a sad smile. “I have another late round of practice for tonight.” He really means it. He would love to come out next time.

“One of these days, Baekhyun. One of these days, we’re gonna get you to come out again,” Kris says, finger-gunning them all before turning the opposite direction. “Anyways, I’ll see you guys later.”

This prompts Sehun to look down at his phone before elbowing Jongdae. “Fuck, we need to go too. We’re gonna be late for econ lecture.”

“Catch you guys later, then,” Jongdae says, flashing a smile and wave before following Sehun across the street to get to their next class.

Baekhyun turns to Chanyeol, who looks like a haggard kind of tired. “You don’t have class today?” he asks.

“I have class,” Chanyeol confirms. “But I’m definitely not going.”

He runs a hand through his hair, messing up the perfect coif he had earlier and Baekhyun tries not to wince as he watches Chanyeol ruffle out the hair product. It had looked so good.

“Aw, you ruined it,” Baekhyun whines. “I wish you didn’t do that.”

“You know I don’t like wax,” Chanyeol grumbles. “It makes me feel sticky.”

Baekhyun frowns. “It took us a long time to get it to look like that.”

“I’ll do my hair like that again for the competition, if it makes you happy,” he relents.

Baekhyun just beams. “Actually, I would love that.”

Chanyeol scoffs goodnaturedly. “Of course you would,” he says. “Anyways, have you eaten yet? I’m starving.” Baekhyun shakes his head.

“I haven’t. Do you wanna pick somewhere?”?

Chanyeol isn’t craving anything in particular and Baekhyun doesn’t want to go anywhere too far, so they decide to settle on something safe. There’s this little italian cafe on the edge of campus, the one with the gourmet hot sandwiches, and it was in this cafe that Baekhyun had really gotten a chance to talk to Chanyeol after they first hooked up at the club. It was a place Chanyeol had randomly suggested, texting Baekhyun about great food and wonderful coffee and Baekhyun had just went with it, eager to continue talking to this literal human puppy.

The conversation had gone amazingly well and they soon found themselves on second and third dates. Dates? Had those been dates? Was _this_ a date?

Baekhyun feels like it’s awfully late to ask such a stupid question but it’s still something he thinks about, even after they finally sit down at a table, napkins in their laps. He hadn’t realized, but the days just turned into weeks, turned into months, and suddenly, he’s been good friends with Chanyeol for the better part of this semester. He wishes he questioned their relationship earlier, stopped to put a clear label on it before falling into such a comfortable lull.

Chanyeol doesn’t even bother looking at the menu because he gets the same thing every time, a chicken pesto panini, but Baekhyun always feels adventurous enough to order something new.

“I think I’ll get a salad,” he ponders, leafing through the menu pages.

Chanyeol just snorts. “You won’t get full and you’ll definitely order something else later. Just save your money and choose pasta or something.”

“Fine,” Baekhyun clips, and he selects some random linguini off the list when the waitress comes by to take their orders.

The food takes a good amount of time to arrive so Baekhyun immediately attacks the bread basket. “How did it go?” he asks through a mouthful of rye. “When do results come out?”

“In two hours, actually,” Chanyeol says. He takes an entire slice of french bread and crams it into his mouth, chewing ungracefully. At least, Baekhyun thinks, he didn’t get any crumbs on that suit. “That’s why I look so stressed out.”

“Oh.” Baekhyun pauses to sip from his water. “We can talk about something else, then.”

“That would be great.”

Baekhyun thinks of what he did today, anything that could serve as a distraction for Chanyeol, but really, all he did was practice.

“Stop,” Chanyeol says, cutting him off before he even started. “I know what you’re thinking already. I don’t want to talk about the case competition because that’ll stress me out, but I don’t want you to talk about practice because that’ll stress _you_ out. Let’s just-- talk. Let’s just talk about, like, whatever, okay?”

“Okay,” Baekhyun agrees. “Let’s just talk.”

And for the next two hours, Baekhyun falls into the easiest conversation of his life, talking about everything and nothing and anything in between.

Talking to Chanyeol has always been incredibly easy.

 

-

 

As if the world was mocking him for his heartache, Baekhyun doesn’t get to see Chanyeol for almost an entire week after that.

These problems are the children of circumstance, really. With the first round of the sonata competition coming up, Baekhyun has no time to waste and it didn’t even matter if he wanted to take a break and see Chanyeol-- Chanyeol isn’t even here.

His team’s presentation received top rankings at the case competition, earning them a competing spot in the final judging. Last Friday, the sponsoring company had flown the four of them out to its national headquarters, guaranteeing a company tour with fully paid amenities. Baekhyun would be lying if he said he wasn’t jealous after Chanyeol video-chatted him about how nice their hotel room was.

It’s difficult, honestly, to realize how much he likes Chanyeol and have Chanyeol’s absence emphasize those feelings even more. Even Kyungsoo is surprised at how much Baekhyun misses Chanyeol, pointing it out when Baekhyun asks to eat dinner with him for the nth time because eating at home seemed too lonely. But in the end, Baekhyun is a musician with priorities and for a short period of time, he does find it easy to put his feelings aside and focus on the task at hand.

Because their pianist is temporarily missing, ensemble practice gets called off and Baekhyun finds more time than ever to get things ready for his sonata. Not to Junmyeon’s gold-star, you-tried standards but to his own honest-to-god marks of perfection. He knows he can’t always do this, but just for a little bit, it feels good to play like the old Baekhyun again.

For almost a week, this sonata is all Baekhyun cares about. He doesn’t think about the ensemble, the concerto they got assigned in studio, or even the Brahms for the showcase. It’s just his Faure sonata, all four movements of a romantic composition, written in the best key of them all: A major. Baekhyun has always like sharps better than flats.

Unlike the auditions, Baekhyun enters this round with a solid game plan. Kyungsoo stays over the night before and together, they watch performance videos of the same sonata, scrutinizing countless professionals who had tackled this exact piece of music. They compare playing styles and technical discrepancies, contrasting them to Baekhyun’s own stylistic choices with a contemplative ear. When midnight rolls around, Kyungsoo forces them to sleep and the next morning, Baekhyun wakes up with none of the jitteriness he felt on the day of the auditions.

They head out right away. Junmyeon had purposely signed Baekhyun up for an earlier performance slot, reasoning that his nerves would only get worse if he let them wait throughout the day.

Baekhyun strides into the judging hall with a spring in his step, music blaring through his earphones and Kyungsoo walking closely behind. Kyungsoo is wearing all black, sporting sunglasses, and carrying Baekhyun’s violin case for him. That last part had actually been Baekhyun’s idea, to dress his best friend up as a tacky bodyguard, but Kyungsoo surprisingly agreed when Baekhyun offered to pay for his next dinner. It’s good to know that on occasion, Kyungsoo likes to be ridiculous too.

Baekhyun feels a little like the main character in the opening sequence of an action movie, walking in here ready to own the place. Honestly, how else were they going to have fun with this boring little competition? He almost wishes that Chanyeol was here, he’d be cackling nonstop at Kyungsoo’s getup, but that’s not a thought Baekhyun should be preoccupied with right now.

“How do you feel?” Kyungsoo asks, setting down Baekhyun’s violin case and taking off his sunglasses. He reaches out to fix Baekhyun’s hair, brushing his fringe aside.

Baekhyun just chuckles. “Perfect, now that I have my own hype man following me to my competitions.” He opens his case and tightens the screw his bow, bringing his mood down to a more serious note. “But really, thanks for being here today.”

Kyungsoo adjusts the collar on Baekhyun’s shirt. “Of course.”

A lady steps out of the judging room, contestants’ list in hand.

“Mr. Byun?” she says. “The jury is ready for you. Come in after you knock.”

“Are you ready?” Kyungsoo asks, handing Baekhyun his violin.

Baekhyun flexes the grip on his bow, curls his fingers gently around the neck of his instrument. He steels his gaze, sets his jaw in a hard line, and tries not to think about all the things that depended on this performance. He turns toward the door.

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

 

-

 

Baekhyun pulls up to the pick-up area of the airport terminal, texting Chanyeol that he’s here. It’s not a busy day and there’s barely a line of cars starting to form, so Baekhyun feels like he can get away with parking here for just a little longer before the traffic directioner asks him to move.

Chanyeol’s case team had done well, placing second in a national tournament that earned them each excellent internship opportunities and a shiny new plaque to bring back, which would no doubt be hung on the walls of the business school for everyone to see. Maybe if Baekhyun plays his cards right, he can talk Chanyeol into requesting a transfer to the same city where he would be taking his summer master class. It’s a hopeful thought, but one Baekhyun indulges in nonetheless.

Jongdae, Sehun, and Kris had returned earlier, right after receiving the results of their presentation. Chanyeol, however, had opted to stay a day longer, insisting that he wanted to explore the city that he didn’t get the chance to see during the chaos of their case preparations. Of course, even in the middle of midterm season, the guy was looking to turn a business trip into an adventure.

“I’ll pick you up,” Baekhyun immediately offered after hearing Chanyeol complain over the phone about how expensive the cab ride back would be.

“Are you sure?” Chanyeol had said, hesitant. “It’s a long trip, you really don’t have to.”

Baekhyun made a noise of disagreement. “Really, it’s fine. I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

Chanyeol just laughed. “I missed you too, Baekhyun.” There was something in his voice that sounded a little too much like fondness and Baekhyun’s heart clenched at the thought that Chanyeol could have possibly missed him as much as Baekhyun missed him.

“Text me your flight address,” he had said, wrestling down the choke in his voice. “I’ll even embarrass you with flowers.”

He doesn’t end up buying flowers because bouquets are expensive and he figures that Chanyeol would rather he use his money on treating him to a congratulatory meal instead. Baekhyun shifts in his seat and eyes the exit, willing Chanyeol to come out soon.

Baekhyun doesn’t have a car, but Kris does, and if the thorough background check that Kris gave of his driving abilities is any indication, Baekhyun’s very lucky to even hold these keys in his unworthy hands.

It’s an unfairly nice car, almost as nice as the one Baekhyun’s dad drives, which is _really_ nice, and he figures that this is the kind of thing you can buy with money when you’re not paying tuition. Baekhyun still doesn’t believe the rumor that Jongin had divulged of Kris’ unbelievable scholarship but after catching the Burberry tag on all of Kris’ coats, he figures he might change his mind soon.

There’s suddenly a flurry of people exiting the arrival station, no doubt all passengers of the same flight. Baekhyun spots Chanyeol, bundled in his grey overcoat, lugging his rolling carry-on with a large plastic bag in his other hand.

“Over here!” Baekhyun shouts, rolling down the car windows so Chanyeol can hear him. He sees Baekhyun immediately.

“How in the _world_ did you get Kris to lend you his car?” Chanyeol marvels after fitting his luggage into the trunk. He brings the plastic bag into the passenger seat with him though, and it makes a loud rusting noise as Chanyeol settles in.

“I can be very convincing when I want to be,” Baekhyun winks. He gestures to the plastic bag, curious. “What’s in there?”

“Well…” Chanyeol starts, reaching into the bag. He pulls out a beautiful bouquet of long-stemmed roses, wrapped carefully and tied with a white satin bow.

“Congratulations, Baekhyun.”

“Wh-what?” Baekhyun stutters, mouth flapping open and closed in a way that couldn’t possibly be attractive. “What is this? I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to be congratulating _you_.”

Chanyeol laughs. “Modesty doesn’t suit you. Kyungsoo told me you passed the first round.” He brandishes the flowers for a moment before putting them back in the bag. “You can put these in a vase after we get home.”

“I can’t believe this,” Baekhyun says, starting the car up. “I keep joking that I’m going to get you flowers, but then you actually went and got me flowers instead.”

Chanyeol just smiles. “Well, don’t think about it too much,” he adds. “I think you deserve it.”

Later that night, after digging around his kitchen cabinets for a tall glass and finally gets around to putting the roses in water, Baekhyun realizes that the only other person to ever buy him flowers this nice is his mother. Not even Kyungsoo ever bothered to waste this kind of money on Baekhyun, which was fine because their friendship was worth more than expensive little gifts.

But Baekhyun admits, it did feel nice to be pampered. Chanyeol spoils him, has always been eager to talk, lets Baekhyun crowd his personal space, and buys him expensive flowers. Why does he do that? Why would he buy expensive flowers for Baekhyun?

The thought keeps Baekhyun up at night, makes him think of all the things he wants. He has classes tomorrow, a long studio session, and ensemble practice right after. Baekhyun knows he should sleep, but he just can’t shut his mind off. It’s not the kind of sleeplessness he feels before a big event, those pre-performance anxiety jitters. It’s a frenzied kind of excitement, elated and scared all at once. Baekhyun doesn’t know how a single bouquet of roses can make him feel this way.

He bolts up in bed and reaches for his mobile, immediately phoning Kyungsoo.

His best friend picks up after the fourth ring. “Baekhyun,” he growls. “There had better be a good reason that you’re calling me at _three in the fucking morning_.”

“There is,” Baekhyun says, gripping the phone tightly. “Can we talk over pancakes?”

There’s a long pause and Baekhyun can feel more than hear Kyungsoo’s sigh over the line.

“Fine,” his best friend says. “Let’s go.”

 

-

 

Late night diner treks is a tradition born out of the summer stretch between high school and university, driving to the nearest pancake house at ungodly hours with an unwilling and half-asleep Yixing in tow. Over every possible breakfast food combination, Kyungsoo and Baekhyun had discussed everything from roommate arrangements to wild post-grad dreams, all while Yixing face-planted into his french toast.

Yixing isn’t here now, floating away to oblivion with his _liberal arts_ peers, but Baekhyun has since learned to hold his contempt. Out of all of them, Yixing is probably most likely to become employed.

They sit silently, contemplating the menu. The last time they did this, Baekhyun had been wearing a wrist brace and it had honestly felt like the world was ending.

Because it’s late and there is barely anyone here, the food gets there fast. After the waitress drops off their plates, Kyungsoo immediately grabs the maple syrup and dispenses a healthy amount onto his bacon.

“Holy shit,” Baekhyun gasps. “You did not just do that.”

“Stop judging me, you piece of shit,” Kyungsoo says, not even looking up. “I’m not the one who likes to eat rice with _mayonnaise_.”

Baekhyun almost jumps from his seat. “That was _once_ ,” he hisses. “And you’re the one who eats Kit-Kats _layer by layer_.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Kyungsoo snaps, throwing a sausage link that hits Baekhyun square on the nose.

Baekhyun wordlessly reaches for the mustard bottle, squirting the condiment all over Kyungsoo’s face. Then Kyungsoo flings a spoonful of his chocolate milkshake at Baekhyun, who knocks over the salt shaker in an attempt to deal some damage with the ketchup bottle. Before long, they’re apologizing profusely to the waitress while asking for extra napkins.

It’s uncanny how every argument with Kyungsoo somehow ends up in a food fight, but Baekhyun figures that it’s probably just one of those unexplainable best friend things. He grimaces slightly as he realizes his favorite sleep shirt is now stained with maple syrup.

“Anyways,” Kyungsoo says, wiping mustard off his neck. “What did you need to talk about? I’m guessing that it’s about Chanyeol.”

“I wish I wasn’t so predictable,” Baekhyun grumbles, cutting into his omelette. “But I am.”

Kyungsoo just rolls his eyes. “You guys went about this all backwards. You fucked first, then got close, and now all that’s left for you to do is ask him out.”

“I feel like it’s way past that point.”

“Well, are you finally going to start dating him then?”

“Dating?” Baekhyun pauses mid-chew. “We’ve been going out but dating just feels so much more…”

Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow. “So much more what?”

Baekhyun thinks for a moment, formulating his words. “Dating is more...serious? Going out and having fun is one thing, but dating would mean like, we were boyfriends or something. Do I want a boyfriend? Does _Chanyeol_ want a boyfriend?”

Kyungsoo’s face contorts in an odd combination of irritation and disbelief. “Baekhyun, I know you get insecure sometimes, but this is fucking ridiculous. Do you have eyes? How can you not see that he follows you _everywhere_.”

“It’s not like we’re always together,” Baekhyun argues weakly. “We just live in the same building. It’s easier for us to come and go from the same place.”

“Just like it’s easier to also sleep at his place and wear his clothes too, right?”

“I--well, that’s just--I don’t…” he trails off.

Kyungsoo puts down his fork and knife and pushes his plate out of the way, coming forward to lean his forearms on the table. “Baekhyun, can I ask you a question?”

“What?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What!?” Baekhyun throws his hands up, defensive.

Kyungsoo just scowls, fixing Baekhyun with a dreadful expression. “Do I need to list out all the reasons for you? Chanyeol didn’t even know you for that long and he just let you manhandle him into playing for our ensemble. You’re crazy for doing that but you know what? Chanyeol is even crazier for _letting_ you do that.”

“I don’t think--” Baekhyun starts.

“No,” Kyungsoo says, cutting him off. “Listen to me. The real question here isn’t _if_ you’re going to do something, but _when_ you’re going to do it.”

He takes his fork and stabs it into a piece of waffle, waving it menacingly in front of Baekhyun’s face.

“You just need to take a leap of faith and I think you’re just too scared to do it.”

 

-

 

The chamber competition sneaks up on them. They don’t mean for it to be like that-- they’ve been practicing hard, they really have, but the weeks seem to disappear into nothing and suddenly, it’s two days before performance day.

“Fuck,” Baekhyun says, stopping their playthrough midway. The others stop playing too. “That passage turn is still a little shaky.”

“I thought we fixed it last time,” Jongin groans. He leans forward, resting a tired cheek on the body of his cello.

“It wasn’t enough. The rhythm is off.”

Everyone is on their last legs of patience but this is getting so close to perfection, the exact vision that Baekhyun had dreamed of from the very beginning, and he’s going to get it there no matter how much nagging it takes

“We could try sectional practice again?” Chanyeol suggests, turning from where he sits on the piano bench. Kyungsoo nods in agreement.

“Good idea,” he says, putting his viola down.

He looks a little frustrated, worn out, and the skin of his neck is splotched pink, a true testament to how long his viola has been wedged between his shoulder and chin. “You guys do that first, I’m going to take a short break.”

“Uh-- I’ll come with you,” Baekhyun adds, hastily placing his violin in its case. “Chanyeol and Jongin, you guys just make sure your rhythms match-- I’ll be back in five!” And then he bolts out the practice room to catch up with his best friend.

Kyungsoo has shorter legs but for some reason, he’s always been faster than Baekhyun. It takes a couple of seconds of quick jogging to get to where Kyungsoo is, slapping down a hand on his shoulder to slow him down.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong--”

“Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo says. “What the hell are you doing?”

“What do you mean?” Baekhyun asks, startled. They round the corner of the hallway and Kyungsoo stops at an empty classroom. He turns and looks Baekhyun straight in the face.

“I know you’re stressed about this ensemble and the sonata second rounds, but I’m tired of you using that as an excuse to be an asshole.”

“I’m sorry, _what_?” It’s true that Baekhyun has been a little preoccupied as of late, cancelling dinners and meet-ups here and there, but these past few weeks have been nothing but a blur and he didn’t think it would piss anyone off if he withdrew a little and focused and what was important.

“Look, when I told you to do something about your feelings, I didn’t mean _ignore Chanyeol completely_.”

“I--no, I haven’t been _ignoring_ Chanyeol--”

“Really, Baekhyun? Because it sure doesn’t feel that way when Chanyeol complains to me about how you keep cancelling your lunch plans and avoid him during practice and ignore his texts when I _know_ you check your phone _all the damn time_.”

“Oh, he said all that?” Baekhyun feels distressed, caught in a trap of his own doing. “When...did you guys become such good friends?”

Kyungsoo groans in frustration. “Since you started _ignoring him_ , Baekhyun.”

“I didn’t mean to--” Baekhyun looks down at the ground, guilt welling up inside. “I just thought that if I was alone for a little while, it would help me sort things out.”

“I know, Baekhyun.” Kyungsoo’s expression softens. “But you chose a really shitty time to do it.”

“What should I do?” Baekhyun asks, biting his lip. Kyungsoo just sighs.

“I can’t tell you how to fix your mistakes.” He puts a hand on Baekhyun’s shoulder, comforting and overbearing at the same time.

“All I can say is that Chanyeol’s not the one being stupid, Baekhyun. You are.”

Kyungsoo is absolutely right, but Baekhyun doesn’t want to ruin whatever fragile comradery their team has built up until this point. He decides not to make any sudden moves for the next two days, just to keep their momentum going. It’s just nonstop practice, severe focus, and classical music.

In the end, they do make it through the chamber competition, remarkably and miraculously, in an extraordinary feat of resilience. Baekhyun and Kyungsoo are, despite their dysfunctional and turbulent best-friendship, still two of the best musicians on campus and no amount of bickering could get in the way of a good delivery. Baekhyun’s wrists have been feeling better than ever lately, thanks to Soojung who was willing to take all his parts in studio, and Jongin has always been better in performance than practice.

The only wildcard is Chanyeol, who started practicing just barely under three months ago. All things considered, however, it’s hard for a classically trained musician to truly lose their skill, even after years of lacking practice. All they really had to do was polish him up and three months had been more than enough time for that.

Chanyeol’s part starts a couple measures before theirs and he briefly looks to Baekhyun as he places his hands on the keys. Baekhyun nods in reassurance, shooting him a tiny smile and Chanyeol smiles back, blindingly bright, before taking a half-breath and starting the piece. The music comes full swing and suddenly, a little guiltily, Baekhyun realizes how much he’s missed that smile.

He knows before they even finish that this is the best runthrough they’ve ever had. That tricky passage turn comes out perfect, Jongin’s triplets are sounding great, and Chanyeol’s rhythm has been matching up wonderfully.

The four of them move together in excellent cadence, playing and breathing like a single entity for the single half hour in the judging room. Baekhyun has always best enjoyed the relish that came with a solo performance, but today, he finds that this ensemble comes pretty close. He could not have asked for better chamber mates.

Toward the end, Chanyeol launches into a particularly fast arpeggio sequence, the mood of the piece on a downturn of intense emotion. The melody in Baekhyun’s violin races after it, Jongin and Kyungsoo following close behind. On the final chord, they all bow down simultaneously, strong and loud, and Chanyeol plays the last note in a gleeful flourish, lifting his hands up in a sign of finality. They had finished, illustriously and gloriously, and there’s nothing that could possibly convince Baekhyun that it could be any better.

They’re all sure to shake the hands of each member of the jury on their way out. It’s always unnerving to perform in front of a reserved crowd, showing little emotion for the sake of judgement, but the way they smiled at the end spoke volumes. It had been a good performance.

An official ushers them out, directing them back to the waiting room where they had left all their belongings. Baekhyun quickly packs up his violin before begging off to the bathroom, dying to run his sweaty palms through some cold water.

He’s drying his hands, frowning in the mirror at an uncooperative tuft of hair, when Kyungsoo comes in, scrutinizing him.

“Chanyeol’s waiting for you out there,” he says, nodding toward the exit. “You have no more excuses.”

Baekhyun turns to his best friend, clenching and unclenching his fists. Coming here had been useless because now his hands are sweaty all over again.

“Okay,” he says, solemn. “I think it’s about time I stopped running away.”

 

-

 

The conversation Baekhyun shares with Chanyeol on the way back to the apartment is shallow at best. They haven’t really talked in awhile (because Kyungsoo is right, Baekhyun has definitely been avoiding Chanyeol), so Chanyeol fills him in on everything that’s happened and all the little things in between.

“Kris is just completely checked out right now because apparently, his business frat is doing elections soon and he just wants to avoid that.” Chanyeol rambles on and on, a faucet of mundane news coming from his mouth. He opens the front door to their apartment complex.

“Elections, huh? That sounds...intense,” Baekhyun says lamely, stepping through the entrance. He hits the elevator button, waiting for the doors to slide open.

“I know his face looks tough and all,” Chanyeol comments, stepping into the elevator. “But he actually hates drama.” The doors close and the elevator ascends upward. Chanyeol just continues talking.

“Anyways, Sehun is turning twenty-one soon and the guys and I were trying to think of cool things we could do--” the elevator beeps and they both step out, “--and we were thinking about renting out this cool rooftop bar and everyone wants to make it super nice and--”

Chanyeol stops at his door, fishing his keys out of his pocket.

“--I was just wondering if you maybe wanted to come?”

They’re in the third floor hallway again, the same position they’ve been in a thousand times before where Baekhyun has perpetually been trying to decide whether to say yes or no to Park Chanyeol.

Chanyeol looks at him tenderly, tilting his head in shy inquiry. He looks nervous, like he thinks Baekhyun might actually reject him. But he should know better, because that will never, ever be the case.

Love is scary but maybe, Baekhyun thinks, maybe it won’t be so bad with Chanyeol. Maybe Chanyeol can make it easy, like he makes everything else so easy. Maybe Baekhyun should have some faith in Chanyeol. Maybe he should listen to Kyungsoo and have as much faith in Chanyeol as Chanyeol had in him. Maybe he owed him that much.

Maybe, for the first time ever, he could get this right.

“Is this okay?” he blurts, looking up at Chanyeol. He takes a step closer, putting their faces mere inches apart and Baekhyun can’t help the waver in his voice, can’t swallow down his uneasiness no matter how hard he tries.

“Of course,” Chanyeol replies, confused. “The guys love you, they definitely won’t mind if--”

“ _No_ ,” Baekhyun says, reaching up to cup the back of Chanyeol’s head. He pulls their faces closer together, foreheads touching. He looks into Chanyeol’s eyes with a purpose and gathers all the courage in his heart.

“I meant, is _this_ okay?”

“You mean--” Chanyeol pauses, like there’s something stuck stuck in his throat and he’s still trying to catch the meaning of Baekhyun’s words. Baekhyun’s heart is beating so fast, it might knock out of his chest, and he swears to god, if Chanyeol rejects him, he’s going to run back home and cry his eyes out--

“You mean, like, _exclusive_?” Chanyeol asks.

For a moment, he looks shell shocked, like he can’t believe what Baekhyun is saying. In a way, Baekhyun can’t believe it either. But then Chanyeol lets out a blinding smile, the same one he’d given Baekhyun in the judging room, and he throws his head back in a laugh of relief, pulling Baekhyun so close that their bodies are pressed to one another, hearts beating in tandem.

“Yes, it’s okay,” he says. “A hundred times yes.”

“Thank god,” Baekhyun mutters, standing on his toes to steal a kiss.

It’s chaste but their mouths linger for a drawn out moment, like letting go would be a painful thing to do.

“You know,” Chanyeol says, pulling back. “I was starting to think that I was way more into this than you were.”

His eyes crinkle when he smiles and his laughter sounds like home. All of a sudden, Baekhyun can’t stop thinking about late night practice sessions, lunches at the cafe, and the expensive flowers still sitting in his kitchen, wilted and ugly but Baekhyun had just refused to throw them away. Now he knows why Jongin still kept those earrings.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asks, looking up coyly. Chanyeol peers down at him through his eyelashes. It’s an intimate gaze and Baekhyun finds that he wouldn’t mind being looked at in this way all the time.

“You musicians are such fickle creatures. I didn’t want to lose what we had.” Chanyeol’s hands squeeze around Baekhyun’s waist, promising to give him more than just a kiss later.

“But I’m really glad you finally said something,” he says, smiling softly

Warmth unfurls inside Baekhyun’s chest, like the soft petals of a blooming flower. It’s a feeling he could get used to.

 _I’m glad I did too_.

 

-

  


**Encore**

 

The conservatory’s spring showcase is a grand concert held in May, meant to honor the talent of three select soloists, the winner of the annual sonata competition, and the winning ensemble of its chamber counterpart. However, because Baekhyun’s sonatas had earned him top scores, his quartet placed first, _and_ he was one of the specially chosen soloists, the entire thing turns into a full-blown Baekhyun celebration.

“Holy shit,” Chanyeol says, thumbing through the concert program. “Baekhyun’s name is in here like, a million times.”

“Don’t point that out,” Kyungsoo hisses. “You’ll inflate his ego.”

“My ego is just the right size,” Baekhyun says. “I’m just finally getting the recognition that I deserve.”

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. “I guess your stupid plan actually worked.”

Baekhyun had meant it when he said he was going to be the comeback kid of this entire campus. This concert is just a mere metaphor for proving his own worth and the best part is that he’s got his best friends standing right next to him.

All according to plan, of course.

Soojung’s performance precedes his, bringing the concert hall to a standing ovation with the resounding finale of her Prokofiev. Chanyeol is fidgeting with Baekhyun’s bowtie when she steps backstage, eyebrow quirked in amusement. Her black dress is petite to her figure, her long hair coming to rest over its sweetheart neckline. She’s got a slight sheen of sweat on her forehead.

“You’re up in three minutes,” she says before quieting for a brief moment. Her eyes turn uneasy with hesitation.

“Where is Jongin?” she asks.

Baekhyun just smirks. “He should be in the green room.”

“Thanks.” Soojung’s smile is constrained, holding it back like a badly kept secret. Baekhyun can probably guess what she’s thinking about.

“Don’t distract him too much-- I still need my cellist for the chamber performance!” he calls out after her retreating figure.

“Well, that was unexpected,” Chanyeol chuckles. He looks great in a tux and hair is coiffed up in that style Baekhyun loves so much.

“We can deal with that later. It’s my turn to play now.” Baekhyun rosins his bow one last time before turning toward the stage.

“Hey-- wait.” Chanyeol grabs Baekhyun’s waist, spinning him around and kissing him full on the lips.

“For luck,” he says, squeezing Baekhyun’s shoulder before letting go.

“I don’t need luck,” Baekyhun replies boldly, turning toward the direction of the stage. “But thank you.”

Chanyeol can’t see, but he’s got the biggest smile on his face.

Baekhyun takes a final breath before stepping into the spotlight, shakes hands with the conductor and bows to the audience with the most lovestruck expression. Chanyeol’s kiss lingers on his lips and he’s ready to take that feeling into the most heartfelt performance of his career.

It’s ironic because his solo is a somber, lonely piece, the minor key dragging on like a funeral march. But somewhere down the line, Baekhyun had learned that it was okay to read off the page sometimes. To ignore notation and maybe even write in some of his own. To play music the way he wanted to play it.

Baekhyun turns toward his audience, bow poised in its starting position.

The crowd will just have to make do with a love song instead.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I played piano from ages 5-14 but I'm actually a business major and have no idea how music school works lol pls forgive me :~(
> 
> Special thanks to postboxinheaven and grungusmungus, their support is the only reason why I ever finish anything <3


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